


Shaw's Island

by Gerec



Series: The Dirty Bad [1]
Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies), X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Anal Plug, Anal Sex, Bondage, Captivity, Cock Rings, Dildos, Double Anal Penetration, Exhibitionism, Explicit Sexual Content, Felching, Flashbacks, Gags, Gang Rape, Group Sex, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, Kinbaku, M/M, Non-Consensual Blow Jobs, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Orgy, Rape, Rimming, Somnophilia, Verbal Humiliation, Violence, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-11-01
Updated: 2017-08-08
Packaged: 2017-11-17 13:20:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 21
Words: 32,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/551998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gerec/pseuds/Gerec
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For <a href="http://xmen-firstkink.livejournal.com/8700.html?thread=19719676#t19719676">this prompt</a> on the Xmen First Class Kink Meme:  </p><p> </p><p>  <i>Erik and his group somehow end up trapped on the remote lands owned by the deranged wealthy alpha Sebastian Shaw. Erik and the other alphas are dropped into the wilderness to survive while Shaw hunts them down for sport. Erik knows he can't leave until he finds his omega, Charles, whom he knows Shaw must be keeping somewhere. Allying with other alphas, they try to survive, fight back, and in the process discover the true extent of Shaw's depravity.</i></p><p> </p><p>Summary: When Shaw pulls the ragged survivors off their lifeboat he is instantly smitten with the omega Charles Xavier. Taken forcibly by Shaw to join his harem, Charles has to endure the obsessed alpha's unwanted attention. Dr. Nathaniel Essex is the beta in charge of Shaw's pharmaceutical empire - a man who hates and worships Shaw in equal measure. Will he turn out to be Charles' only hope or his worst nightmare? And where exactly are Erik and Raven?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **WARNING** : I strongly encourage you to heed the tags and the summary before starting this fic. If non-con makes you uncomfortable or is triggering this is REALLY not for you.

Nathaniel Essex tightens the last of the restraints and takes a step back from the bed to admire his handiwork. The omega is beautiful; an intoxicating blend of long, lean runner's muscles with miles of creamy white skin. The young man – and he does look quite young and delectable – struggles uselessly against the bonds holding him stripped bare and spread-eagled on the silk sheets, dazzling blue eyes blazing hot with anger and fear.

He's been doing this job for years now, his role as personal doctor and caretaker to Shaw and his harem providing him with daily, intimate access to an endless supply of beautiful and desirable omegas. He's fed, bathed, treated and fucked any number of Shaw's toys, a privilege Nathaniel enjoys frequently and with great relish.

Looking down at the latest addition to the household, he can barely contain his enthusiasm. He's going to enjoy watching Shaw take this little hell cat apart, before Nathaniel gets to put him back together again.

“He likes you,” he leans down, running his hand down the omega's flank, caressing the smooth skin before gripping the half erect cock. “He didn't want me to give you any drugs. Says he wants to take you just like this. So you can appreciate him better.” Nathaniel chuckles as the boy tries to snarl through his gag. “You're a very lucky little omega Charles.”

He slips the cock ring on, sliding it in place before stroking the shaft, pumping it leisurely until the boy is hard and leaking. Charles tries to buck him off with his hips but the movement only adds to the building heat and the boy moans pitifully. Nathaniel feels his own erection coming to life just from watching the erotic display. 

His smile is fond, almost paternal as he pushes one long finger into Charles’ ass, letting the leaking fluid and tight muscle suck him into the greedy little hole. The boy moans again, the beginnings of his heat making his body so deliciously receptive.

“You're beautiful,” he pulls out of Charles and promptly licks the juices from his finger, savoring the taste. “Hmm, so sweet my angel.” He leans forward again and swipes his tongue over the tip of the omega's cock, chuckling at the way the boy thrusts his hips and whimpers. “Don't worry, when Shaw's done fucking you, I'll give you what you need.”

Nathaniel hears the outer door to the suite open and quickly backs away from the bed; Shaw doesn't like anyone playing with his toys before _he's_ had a go at them. The man stalks into the bedroom, stripping off his jacket and tie before making his way over to the foot of the bed.

“Can you smell it Doctor?” Shaw inhales a lungful of air and grins from ear to ear. “It's like walking into a wall of sex. A shame you're not an alpha; you can't fully appreciate the incredible scent that's rolling off of him right now.”

He's right of course; Nathaniel, for all his skill and intellect and voracious appetite for pleasure is only a beta. Even though he's well trusted and given free rein as the head of Shaw's team of scientists, he's not _respected_ the way Sebastian or his lieutenants are as alphas. And he craves it, wants it more than anything; for a powerful, ruthless man like Shaw to look him in the eye and see an equal.

“Yes...he's quite alluring this one, Sebastian.”

The doctor grabs his charts off the coffee table as Shaw wanders over to take the single blue pill and glass of Scotch off the bar. He watches as the other man quickly downs his special concoction and smiles, “The new prescription should almost double your recovery rate. You’ll have to tell me how well it works.”

“Hmm, yes of course.” Sebastian sits casually on the bed next to Charles, taking a sip of his drink as his eyes rake over the body of the bound omega. “Tell me.”

“Charles Xavier, 24, just received his PhD in Genetics at Oxford. His alpha is a 27 year old mechanical engineer, Erik Lehnsherr. Adopted sister, Raven Xavier. Also an alpha, 20 years old. Independently wealthy; no other family members except a step brother who’s been missing for years.”

“Interesting.”

Nathaniel looks up from his notes and watches intently as Sebastian takes an ice cube from his glass and rubs it in circles over the boy’s left nipple. He leans down, blowing gently across the pert bud before running his tongue over the heated skin and grazing it with his teeth. Charles keens loudly through his gag and then glares at them both, his fingers clenching and unclenching in frustration.

Sebastian slides his hand down to the boy’s cock, stroking it distractedly, rubbing the drops of pre-come along the curve of the shaft. “Anything else?”

He clears his throat and nods, trying to push the discomfort of his own erection to the back of his mind. There’ll be plenty of time to play later. “He’s in perfect health, though you should probably know that when I checked his blood work, he tested positive with suppressants. Based on the levels I would say he hasn’t been in a heat for about three years.”

“How wonderful!” Sebastian claps his hands together and laughs, brushing his hand on the omega’s cheek with mock affection. “You’re going to love it, my sweet. It’ll hit you ten times as hard as a regular one since you haven’t had a cycle in so long. You’ll be so desperate for my cock up your ass you’ll be begging me for it.”

Charles screams behind his gag, shaking his head wildly and bucking his hips, trying to get away from the hand on his cock. Nathaniel can’t think of anything more inviting than those straining muscles and muffled cries, and wants so badly to fuck that pretty little pink hole himself. “If there’s nothing else, I should leave you to it.”

Sebastian is grinning at the struggling omega, obviously enjoying the boy’s distress and fear. He calls out to Nathaniel without taking his eyes off the naked body writhing on his bed, “Oh Essex, could you do me a small favor? Do make sure all the cameras are working properly won’t you?”

He sees the look of panic cross Charles’ face and it makes his cock throb with anticipation. “Of course, Sebastian. I’ll be sure to keep a close eye on everything.”


	2. Chapter 2

For the first time in a long time, Sebastian Shaw is...intrigued.

He’s a wealthy and powerful man, used to getting what he wants the moment he wants it. A private island retreat, filled with people who serve his every whim. A harem of beautiful omegas to fuck at his leisure. And a team of brilliant scientists working day and night on the latest pharmaceutical advances to fund his empire. He should be happy. Content.

Instead, he finds himself a bit bored with the state of his own charmed existence. Even the hunts are starting to lose their luster; there hasn’t been an alpha smart enough or strong enough to give Sebastian a real challenge in years. 

But now...now he thinks he’s stumbled across a most delightful pair of distractions.

The omega, Xavier, is gorgeous – all pale skin and piercing blue eyes full of intelligence and fire. He knew the moment he laid eyes on the boy, pulled exhausted and half delirious from the drifting life boat that he wanted to own him. To break him. Bring him back to the compound and fuck him long and hard until he begged Sebastian for mercy.

He’s a patient man, and would gladly have waited to sate his appetite if it hadn’t been for the alpha they pulled out of the water alongside his new toy. The man, Lehnsherr – along with Xavier’s sister - was terribly rude and ill-mannered, wanting to deny Sebastian his right to take the omega. After all, hadn’t he _just_ rescued the three of them from drowning at sea? 

In the end, Lehnsherr gave him no choice. He needed to understand that Sebastian owned everything on that island, including the lives of the people around him and didn’t need _permission_ to take what was his. And so he had his men hold the two alphas back while he pushed Xavier down on the deck, stripped him naked and then fucked him. Twice.

The look on Lehnsherr’s face had given him an unexpected thrill. Here was a man with a dangerous edge that Sebastian could appreciate; he could see the rage and hatred he set free, burning white hot in intensity. There was a very good chance he would prove to be an engaging quarry and - if Sebastian was very lucky – maybe even a worthy adversary.

He’s genuinely looking forward to the hunt now, though of course it will have to wait a few more days. Sebastian wonders if Lehnsherr can appreciate the irony; that he’ll get to live just a little bit longer, solely because his lover is too delectable to leave unattended during his heat.

Xavier – Charles – is still struggling against his restraints, unintelligible sounds escaping from the gag between his swollen lips. He lets himself enjoy the sight of all that soft, unblemished skin, imagining all the ways he’ll bite and bruise until the body is thoroughly covered with his markings.

“I’m going to take the gag off now Charles,” he brushes a lock of hair out of the boy’s eyes and leans in close to whisper in his ear. “You’ll be good for me won’t you my sweet?”

The boy screams the moment he pulls the gag away, “Let me go you insane fuck! I’m an American citizen! You can’t just hold me here against my will and rape me! Where’s Erik? And my sister? What did you do to them?”

“Now, now, there’s no need for hysterics,” he continues to stroke the boy’s hair, cradling Charles’ face gently before dipping lower to memorize the youthful physique with his hands. “I set them loose on the island. They’re alive and well and will stay that way ‘til your heat is over.”

The omega’s face pales and he stops struggling to stare at the man looming above him. “What...what do you mean? What’s going to happen to them?”

Sebastian hums quietly, distracted by the delicious scent, the soft curves and lean muscles under his fingertips. “It means when I’m done with you, I’m going to hunt them down and kill them.”

“No! Oh god you really are crazy! Please...you can’t! Don’t hurt them!” Charles is both angry and terrified, his eyes wide and wet with unshed tears. “Please, please...just let them go. I’ll...I’ll do anything you want if you just let them go.”

“Tempting,” he buries his face in the boy’s neck and inhales deeply, before licking a long stripe of salty sweet skin. “But unnecessary. You’re going to do whatever I want anyway Charles; you’re in no position to bargain with me. In fact, by the time we’re through here you’re going to be begging me to fuck your pretty little ass.”

The blue eyes flare bright with indignation and blood surges into Sebastian’s cock at the omega’s defiant words. “Never,” he spits venomously, “You’re a rapist and I’m never going to give in to you.”

“I was hoping you would say that.” He grins as he caresses the cleft between Charles’ ass, pulling a loud gasp when he slides two fingers in and _twists_. “I always did love a challenge.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Please do note the tags before you read on because chapters 3 and beyond detail fairly explicit, non-con acts!

Charles Xavier is a fighter.

He’s used to being underestimated; his boyish good looks, his obvious intellect and well-spoken manners painting a superficial if accurate picture of the soon to be Professor of Genetics. It’s the Charles Xavier that the world knows and loves – an outer shell he happily perpetuates to keep people from asking too many questions or looking for more than he's willing to give.

Charles Xavier is also a survivor.

At twenty four, he’s already lived a life’s worth of tragedy and heartbreak. The death of his father at age seven, a distant and alcoholic mother, an abusive stepfather and stepbrother; all shaped the young omega’s will and determination into a core of steel.

He digs deep, using that inner strength to keep from shattering when Shaw rapes him, pushing his body against the rough wooden deck of the luxury yacht. Uses it to shield himself from his sister’s screams as the alpha grips his thighs and shoves into him over and over, heedless of the circle of leering men pressing in all around them. To shut out the look of horror and helpless rage on Erik’s face as they beat him, holding him down to watch as Charles fights and pushes and yells “No” and “Stop” and “Don’t”.

Charles knows that he’s trapped in a mad man’s web, knows that he’ll be used again and again before this ordeal is over. He can already feel the effects of the heat taking over, making it almost impossible to think beyond the cresting, searing need that’s making his blood sing. It’ll happen soon, he can tell; Charles will lose himself to raw desire and the implacable will of his own nature and Shaw will be there to rut him like an animal. But it _will_ end eventually and he won’t give up; will never stop fighting with every fiber of his being to get back to Erik and Raven.

He’ll endure this, and then he’ll find a way to get them all off of this god forsaken island.

___

The doctor sits in front of the three large monitors, taking the occasional sip of his drink as he watches the video feed of the omega still tied to Shaw’s bed.

Nathaniel is more than a little surprised at the alpha’s apparent restraint; it’s not like Shaw to wait when something he wants is right there for the taking. He had caressed the boy, touching him almost reverently before promising to make Charles beg for him. That had been hours ago, the doctor tasked to keep watch as the heat worked its way slowly through the omega’s system.

Charles is moaning softly now, eyes dilated and body covered in a thin sheen of sweat giving his skin a luminescent glow. His cock is rock hard and dripping with pre-come, the omega writhing in his binds and rocking his hips back and forth in a desperate bid for relief.

It’s absolutely mesmerizing.

He places the call to Shaw before setting his cell and drink on the console, unzipping his pants to take himself in hand. His own cock is stiff and leaking, and he strokes himself slowly as he waits for the show to start.

___

When Sebastian opens the door to the bedroom again he almost comes just from the sights and smells bombarding him.

The air is thick with pheromones, a sweet perfume so ripe and luscious that it makes both his eyes and mouth water. Even better is the lovely vision presented by his omega, now fully in the throes of his heat, slick dripping down his thighs as he writhes against the plug in his ass, the low moans stoking his own burning need.

It's exquisite torture, holding himself back from diving into that firm, tight flesh but Sebastian wants to do it differently this time, to really savor the experience. He's already taken Charles twice before, a hand on that slim white throat as the boy screamed himself hoarse, fighting the entire time Sebastian fucked into him. The chaos of that day had been intoxicating; to feel the weight of multiple sets of eyes watching as he came inside the omega, staking his claim on Charles right in front of his mate.

But it's not enough.

There's a spark in Charles' eye that Sebastian wants very much to tame. He wants to break that willful spirit; to have all that passion directed at him and make the omega succumb to his every desire. Experience has already shown him that threats and force will not achieve his goal; Charles has shown remarkable resilience to the violence inflicted on him on the yacht.

So Sebastian will seduce him instead.

He'll pleasure him until he begs for it; taste him and worship him until Charles' whole being calls out for more. He wants to watch him fall apart, knowing that Sebastian is the one giving him what his own voracious appetite demands. And after the alpha takes him to heights of ecstasy beyond his imagining, the omega will crave him in body if not in mind, the first step to erasing the memory of Lehnsherr forever.


	4. Chapter 4

“Charles.”

The young man's head snaps immediately to attention at the sound of his voice, his pupils dark and wild with unfulfilled lust. He doesn't stop straining against the silk that's holding him spread open, his hips sliding the plug in his hole back and forth across the sheets.

“Ahhh...let me go! You have to...I need...let me go.”

“Shh, it's alright. I'll take care of you.” He climbs onto the bed and hovers over the prone omega, taking in the intoxicating scent and sweat soaked skin before leaning down and rubbing the slit of his swollen and aching member. Charles gasps and his entire body arches towards Sebastian even as he tries to fight against him. “Don't...god...don't touch me!”

He chuckles, enjoying the moans and shivers he pulls from the body beneath him as he strokes the leaking cock gently with one hand, the other sliding the plug in and out too slowly to provide any relief. “I don't think you really mean that Charles.”

The omega's bright blue eyes flash for a moment, defiance breaking through the haze of roiling lust. “Get your hands off me!”

It makes Sebastian salivate; the contempt delivered with that polished accent, the refusal to submit to him even now – igniting a possessive fire in his gut like nothing he's ever experienced. He yanks the plug out without warning, making Charles keen from the unexpected friction and slams three fingers inside the wet and gaping entrance.

“Let me explain this to you,” he pumps his fingers in and out, exploring and stretching the tight channel of muscle dripping with slick. “I'm the only one who gets to fuck you, Charles, no one else. If you don't want me, then I'll be forced to keep you tied up like this for the next four days with no relief, until your heat is over.”

The omega makes a choked noise and closes his eyes, trying to shut out the man’s hungry stare. Sebastian sits enraptured, watching as Charles fights an internal battle of will vs. instinct. He’s making the most delicious sounds, mewling and gasping as he pushes his ass down to take the alpha in deeper, too far gone to keep himself from reacting to Sebastian's rhythmic thrusts. It must be uncomfortable now, painful, the orgasm building for the last three hours still held tight by the cock ring around the base of his red and swollen shaft. He dives in, devouring those ruby lips with a growl and inhaling the pained moan as he shoves even harder with his fingers.

And just when he starts to feel the other give in, lips parting slightly to allow Sebastian access, the tension settling in his limbs from fighting the bonds - he hauls himself away from the trembling body, pulling his mouth and his fingers away so abruptly that it leaves Charles stunned and confused. “What...?”

“Beg me.”

The omega's face is a riot of emotions – lust, indignation, and a touch of fear. “You...what? You can't be serious!”

Oh, this is almost enough to make him come in his pants like a teenager. “You want me to fuck you don't you Charles? To make you feel good?” He leans in, breath inches away from the omega's ear, “Want me to slide my cock inside your ass and take you? You _know_ how big my cock feels don't you Charles? I'll split you open, let your tight little hole pull the orgasm out of me and fill you up with my come.”

“No!” The boy bites back – still fighting, always fighting. “I'm not...ahh...going to beg you to rape me!”

He climbs off the bed then, smoothing the wrinkles on his shirt and running a hand through his hair as Charles stares up at him, eyes glazed over with need. “You still don't understand. I have a dozen omegas here, all ready and waiting for me to fuck them. I don't _need_ you Charles. I'm afraid you're the one who needs me.” 

It takes all the willpower he can muster to appear unaffected, to turn around and head towards the door. The knob is half way turned and he's almost overcome with disappointment when Charles finally, _finally_ calls him back. 

“Wait...don't...don't leave.”

He stills; best not to appear over eager. “What's that Charles? I can't quite hear you.”

The omega makes a gargled noise that sounds like frustration, mingled with resignation. “Don't...don't go.”

Sebastian grins and heads back to the bed, almost giddy with excitement. He straddles the body and leans down to place a kiss on lips that are pressed tightly in a scowl. “Tell me what you want.”

Charles sucks in a harsh breath, making a wheezing sound before shutting his eyes and gritting his teeth. “I want you.”

“Want me to what? Come on sweetheart. You have to say it.”

He waits, counting the seconds with bated breath until the omega's eyes fly open and he sees the exact moment that Charles _breaks_ , surrendering completely to the all-consuming desire to mate. “I...oh god...I want you to fuck me.”

“Very good.” The ties come off of stiff arms and legs and Sebastian takes great care to massage the strained muscles, rubbing Charles' aches until he's moaning from the mix of pain and pleasure. He lifts the omega onto his lap, relishing the brush of soft skin and smooth flesh as he pulls the other man close, inhaling the wet and luscious warmth of his mouth. “Now undress me.”

Charles hesitates, looking dazed and unsure and Sebastian takes the opportunity to grind his cock against the boy's ass, rubbing him mercilessly and dragging a wail from his lips. He tugs the omega against his chest and tells him again, with more force, “Undress me.”

This time, there's no hesitation and he watches with satisfaction as Charles fumbles with the buttons on his shirt before tugging his belt loose and unzipping his pants. Sebastian lets him do all the work, only shifting his body and lifting his hips to help when the boy reaches to remove his pants and underwear. He rolls them down onto the bed, naked and tangled together as he runs his tongue over every inch of the omega's body, taking his time licking and sucking and bruising until Charles cries out, “Please...please, ah...I need...more.”

Sebastian smiles; he wants nothing more than to give Charles exactly what he's asking, no, _begging_ for. He pulls the omega onto his lap again, thumbing the cock ring and slicking his fingers in the pre-come. “Do you want to come for me my pet?”

“Yes!” Charles throws his arms around Sebastian's neck, grinding his ass on the alpha's throbbing erection. “Yes, please...let me come. Oh god!”

The kiss he places on the omega's lips is almost gentle, reverent. “I'll let you come sweetheart, but you have to help me.” He guides Charles up with a hand on his hip, pressing tight against the pucker that's open and slick and ready. 

“Fuck yourself on my cock, Charles.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who's reading and thank you for the comments! I hope you continue to like these new updates.
> 
> As before, please note the warning for explicit non-con in this chapter.

Any resistance he may have had to the request is completely subsumed by the blistering heat that's burning him inside out. Charles can't think; there's only blinding, scorching need that robs him of all rational thought. He feels the blunt tip of a cock against his ass, just barely grazing the rim of his entrance and he wants nothing more than to bury it inside of him as far as it can go.

He lets out an obscene moan, sinking down too rough, too fast - the head sliding easily through the ring of muscle. It fills him completely, the cock thrusting up with abandon, burying itself to the hilt. Charles cries out, a sound that seems oddly distant to his own ears, wanton and demanding. It feels incredible, the push and pull of his own tight channel as it grips the thick member, filling him and splitting him open and laying him bare.

Someone is speaking but the words are lost in a haze of satisfaction and the only thing that matters is the inexorable slide of the stiff cock bouncing him up and down. Charles wants this never to stop; wants to be fucked and filled and taken over and over again by the man he loves. He tugs the alpha close and kisses him, breathing a sigh into the other man's lips, “Oh god...Erik...”

The vicious slap across his face shocks him, breaking him out of his stupor.

____

The outline of his fingers on Charles' cheek excites him, the side of his face red and raw from the force of the swing. Sebastian yanks the omega against his chest again, one hand gripping him not so gently by the back of his neck. “Don't you ever say that name in front of me again do you understand? Or I will give you to my men and let them all fuck you like the whore you are.”

He doesn't bother waiting for a response, throwing the boy on his back and pinning his knees to his chest. His fingers dig deep into the soft flesh of Charles' thighs, dragging ragged moans from the omega as he shoves back in, pistoning his hips and setting a brutal pace.

Sebastian lets the feel of the tight, wet heat smooth away the possessive rage, letting it morph into passion and the intense need to dominate, to own the bright, beautiful creature under him. He grips Charles' face, eyes hard and unyielding. “Say my name when I'm fucking you.”

“Ah!” He snaps his hips, shoving his cock to the hilt inside the omega again and again until Charles gasps, “Sebastian!”

“Again!” Grunts and the slaps of slicked flesh fills the air, mixed with the panting breaths and heated moans from both men. “Beg me to let you come.”

Charles is writhing against the sheets, his creamy skin a stark contrast against the blood red silk. Sebastian has never seen anything more captivating in his life. “Please Sebastian, please! Gah! Let me...oh god...come!”

He sinks into the boy's ass, loosening the cock ring as he shoves in with a loud grunt. Charles wails and thrashes, coming so intensely that his whole body clamps down, shooting hot streaks all over their chests and stomachs. Sebastian follows a few strokes later, the look of pure bliss on the omega's face combined with the tight clenching around his cock milking the most exquisite orgasm from the alpha.

Charles pants quietly, limbs relaxed and boneless, eyes wide and unseeing as he stares at the man pumping languidly inside him. Sebastian smiles and kisses him, parting his mouth softly with his tongue. He pulls out slowly, taking immense pleasure from the sight of his come dripping out of the omega's entrance and pooling on the sheets.

“That was lovely Charles.” He places a light kiss on soft, wavy locks. “We're going to do that again.”

___

The show goes on for hours.

Sebastian fucks the omega up against the wall, bouncing him up and down on his cock as the boy moans and whines and comes in long stripes all over his chest without being touched.

 _“Look at you, moaning...ugh....begging for my cock. You’re such a pretty little slut for me, Charles.”_

He bends him over the back of the couch, forcing Charles to pry his own ass cheeks apart to give the alpha better access, rocking in and out of his swollen and abused hole.

_“Please...please...harder. Ahhh!”_

He takes him on the floor, hands and knees on the plush grey carpet as Sebastian shoves two fingers in alongside his cock, stuffing him full and jerking him back and forth with abandon.

_“You’re so wet and loose. Mmm...should I stick my fist up your tight little ass? Fuck...you’d like that wouldn’t you, my pet?”_

He holds him face down on the bed, ass in the air, covering the omega with his body as he slams in at a relentless pace. Charles keens wildly, the assault against his prostate so overwhelming that he blacks out from the intensity of his release.

_"More...Sebastian...more..."_

Nathaniel watches it all from the control room, hours and hours of the most debauched and thorough fucking he’s witnessed in a long time – maybe ever – from the alpha. He’s managed to jerk off three times, marveling at the whines and breathless whimpers from Xavier's lips, the way his body arches and sways to Sebastian's ministrations. 

He can't help but wonder at the alpha's fascination with the boy; it's obvious to the doctor that Charles has captivated the man in a way few people have. Sebastian is rough and demanding, taking and using and practically inhaling every inch of the omega, seemingly intent on ruining him. But he's also oddly gentle and covetous, hands and lips caressing Charles intimately when they aren’t fucking – rubbing circles on his hip, brushing the hair from his face - as if the boy was the most precious, perfect treasure.

The first chance he gets, Nathaniel thinks - he’s going to fuck the boy himself to see what all the fuss is about.


	6. Chapter 6

“Come in.”

Sebastian is sitting naked and relaxed, running a hand along the smooth curve of Xavier’s back when Nathaniel enters the room again. The omega is face down on the sheets, moaning softly, exhausted and covered in bruises and reeking of sex. He is leaking come steadily from his ass, filled to overflowing from the number of times the alpha has taken him in the past six hours.

He takes a step closer to the bed, cataloguing the marks that cover Charles’ body; finger shaped bruises on the boy’s hip, ass and the back of his neck; red welts on his wrists and ankles from the silk ties; bites and dark purple blotches marring pale neck and shoulders. 

The doctor tries and fails to rein in an amused chuckle, “How was the new prescription?”

“Great,” Sebastian grins and slaps the omega’s ass, making Charles groan and rock his hips forward. “Do whatever trials you need to do and then get it into production. You can use my men and the omegas for your testing.”

“And Xavier? You want me to put him with the others?”

The alpha stands, pulling his pants on and zipping them up before running a hand through his mussed hair. “No. Feed him, clean him up. Then bring him back here.”

Nathaniel can’t stop himself from blurting out in surprise, “You want him to stay with you? In your room?”

“Do you have a problem with my instructions Doctor?” Sebastian’s eyes narrow dangerously and he gives Essex a terse smile. 

“No, of course not. I’ll have him brought back here as soon as possible.” He moves quickly over to the bed and reaches for the plug that’s still laying on the night stand. Slicking it up with more lube, he bends over and slides it into the omega’s hole, taking care to be quick but gentle.

The reaction is immediate; Charles arches his back and moans long and loud, his voice hoarse and rough from the delightful noises that Sebastian dragged from him for hours. He sounds somehow both wanton and pained, a delicious little cocktail of sex that makes Nathaniel burn to get him back to the recovery room.

He rolls the omega over onto his back, and then lifts him easily into his arms. The doctor is almost out the door with his precious cargo when Sebastian calls out to him, “Oh Essex, just one more thing.”

Nathaniel knows right away that he won’t like what’s coming. He’s learned long ago to despise the smug and condescending tone that Sebastian uses with him. “Yes?”

The smirk Sebastian gives him doesn’t quite reach the man’s eyes, sending a slight shiver down the beta’s spine. “Charles is mine, Doc. Nobody fucks him but me.”

He puts on the most placid smile he can muster and looks at the alpha steadily as he answers, “Of course Sebastian. Charles is perfectly safe with me.”

___

He can feel strong arms lift him off the bed, carrying him out of the room and down the hall away from Shaw. Charles is still in a haze from his heat, body completely drained and sore from hours of being fucked by the alpha. Every single part of him aches, his limbs heavy and head fuzzy as he drifts in and out of awareness.

When he opens his eyes again he finds himself back in the room where Essex had first brought him, subjecting Charles to invasive and degrading preparations for his time with Shaw. He was cleaned inside and out, a metal hose shoved up his arse before he was shaved and his body oiled from head to toe. At the time he had cursed and fought with Essex at every step, desperate to get away from the man’s unwanted attention. Now he thinks he might prefer the doctor’s light, clinical touch to the feel of Shaw’s hands and come all over his skin.

Someone’s arms help him to a sitting position and a glass of water is placed in front of his lips. A voice he doesn’t recognize says softly, “Drink this. You’re dehydrated.”

“Sean. Go run a bath for Charles and then head over and clean Sebastian’s suite.” 

“Yes Dr. Essex,” the voice – and he sounds like a young man – behind him answers but the arms don’t move away until he’s finished drinking from the glass. There’s a slight, reassuring squeeze on his shoulder before he’s being shifted back down again onto the bed. 

He watches through tired, half lidded eyes as the young man comes into view, a red head with freckles in a white t-shirt and jeans. There’s some type of weird, digital collar around his neck that draws Charles eye; otherwise, he looks entirely too normal to be around lunatics like Essex and Shaw. 

Sean leaves as soon as he finishes running the bath in the adjoining bathroom, looking over at Charles with a rueful smile before closing the door behind him. Essex continues to scribble in his notebook for a few minutes, before he locks the door and then sits next to Charles on the bed.

“You did well today Charles.” He flinches as the doctor brushes his cheek with a calloused finger. “It’s unfortunate really, that Sebastian seems so taken with you. I’m afraid there’s going to be at least another three or four days of him...oh, let’s call it _mating_ with you, shall we...before your heat is over.”

Essex’s voice is low and soft, affecting the same polite and civilized manner from earlier when he had served Charles up to Shaw like a lamb to slaughter. The doctor chuckles softly, seemingly amused as he massages tight and sore muscles, his hands working deftly to ease some of Charles’ obvious discomfort. 

“What is it about you my sweet angel that has Sebastian so smitten? Is it the way you taste? Is it your tight little ass Charles?” The hands continue to roam over his nude body, working and soothing troublesome knots, and he finds himself slowly relaxing into the comfort of the soft bed. 

A light slap on the cheek wakes him just as he starts to drift off. “Uh uh, sorry. We’ve got to clean you up and then you’ve got to eat something before going to sleep. Otherwise you won’t last a few hours let alone for the rest of your heat.”

“You...” Charles’ voice sounds wrecked to his own ears, “...let me go, please.”

“Tsk, tsk,” the doctor shakes his head and frowns. “Now you know I can’t do that without getting into trouble with Sebastian. And who would take care of you if he kills me for letting you escape?” He sighs, a little theatrically, “I’m disappointed Charles that you would want me dead after I’ve taken such good care of you.”

Raising his head off the pillow is an effort, but he manages long enough to glare at Essex and mutter, “You’re as...bat shit...crazy as he is.”

Nathaniel just chuckles fondly, treating his words like they’ve been spoken by an errant child. “Now, now, there’s no need to be unpleasant. Especially since we’ll be spending so much time together.”

The mattress shifts, the doctor getting up and circling leisurely to the end of the bed. He slides the omega towards him, spreading his legs obscenely wide to reveal the plug that’s barely holding in all of Shaw’s come.

“What...no...please...don’t...” 

“Oh no, I’m afraid I can’t fuck you.” And the bastard sounds apologetic, as though Charles might actually be disappointed at the revelation. “Sebastian has forbidden anyone else from having you. Pity really; I would have taken good care of you.”

There’s a finger now, gently rubbing the rim of his pucker and the motion makes Charles keen from the hours of abuse he’s suffered at Sebastian’s hands. Nathaniel stops and looks down at him, his expression almost sympathetic. “I’m afraid I have to take the plug away so I can clean you out. If I use the hose from this morning it’s going to hurt quite a lot I think. I imagine it’ll irritate and scratch all the raw and swollen areas inside and outside your hole.” 

He clenches at the thought of even more pain, tears threatening to spill. “No...no hose.”

“It’s alright angel, I’ve got a better idea.” The doctor kneels down in front of his open thighs and slowly slides the plug out of his channel. The feeling of warm come spilling out of his gaping entrance makes Charles’ stomach lurch violently in protest.

And then his mind goes blank from shock when a soft tongue darts between his ass cheeks and starts to _lick_.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last of the chapters currently posted on the meme; new updates will come soon though not as frequently (sorry)! Next chapter brings us to what's been happening with Erik and Raven so I hope you'll continue to read! 
> 
> Warning: I feel the need to repeat that this is explicit non-con and Mr. Essex is exceptionally creepy in this chapter. :0)

The first taste is enough to convince him.

Nathaniel is between the omega’s thighs, eye level with the red and abused hole as he slips the plug out gently. He watches the juices pour out, a heady mix of slick and come that has the doctor licking his lips in anticipation. 

He’s careful, the light touch garnering him just the barest hint of sweet and bitter nectar, his tongue reveling in the taste of raw, untamed sex. It’s more than a little addictive.

Charles tries to shift, a choked sob falling from his lips as Nathaniel licks him again, a long, luxurious swipe from the bottom of his hole to just under his scrotum. He grips the boy’s thighs – not hard, just enough to hold him still – placing his fingers over top the dark bruises Shaw left on the creamy white skin.

The omega is absolutely full, filled to overflowing with Shaw’s seed and his own fluids. He laps the swollen entrance dutifully, savoring the liquid like fine wine. It’s breathtaking, intoxicating; he’s going to eat him out and swallow every drop.

He smiles at Charles’ breathless moans and whimpers, the boy’s cock slowly responding to Nathaniel’s tongue as he runs circles around his rim, cleaning what’s leaking out before delving in and lapping the juices inside. The omega makes the most delightful, _sinful_ noises, sounding lusty and wanton and desperate for more.

“Feels good doesn’t it my angel?” He unzips his pants and pulls his cock from the confines of his underwear. “Isn’t this much better than having a hose shoved up your ass?” The doctor strokes himself with one hand, sliding a finger inside Charles with the other, dragging another ragged moan from the omega’s lips. “Let’s make sure I get all of it shall we?”

The finger goes in too easily, making loud squelching sounds as he twists and rolls, searching for the boy’s prostate. There’s too much still; too slippery for Nathaniel to get any kind of grip so he slides in two more fingers and scoops out some of the come, taking care not to spill too much on the bedspread.

“Delicious,” he licks his fingers, sliding them in a second and then a third time for more. “God he really filled you up didn’t he? You little come slut.” He returns to licking the crease, sliding his finger back in and probing until Charles lets out a pained scream.

“There you go.” He presses, tongue and finger both as he works Charles’ prostate and sucks the fluids out of the boy’s ass. The omega keens and bucks, cock hard and throbbing from the combined sensations. He continues to stroke himself, his orgasm building as he watches Charles thrash and writhe and mewl, pressing himself against Nathaniel’s tongue.

He can tell that the boy is getting close, so he tugs him forward and throws his legs over his shoulders, burying his face between Charles’ ass cheeks. He inhales deep, breathing in the musky scent of alpha and omega before placing a filthy, open mouthed kiss on the still over-sensitive hole and _sucks_. 

“Ahhhh!” Charles comes hard, his orgasm tearing out of him in long, creamy stripes across his chest and stomach. Nathaniel doesn’t let go, doesn’t stop sucking as the omega whines and clenches. He licks Charles through his release, cleaning him out, slowly bringing him down from his high.

Once he’s finally satisfied that the boy is empty, he stands, yanking off his pants and underwear impatiently. He climbs onto the bed, straddling Charles’ limp and exhausted body, and jerks himself off until he’s shooting his own load all over the omega’s face and neck. 

He takes a moment to enjoy the view, his hot sticky come painted across Charles’ cheek and forehead; a large glob on the corner of his mouth. Leaning close, he licks at the sticky white seed and then kisses him, parting those scrumptious red lips so they can both enjoy the taste of their combined fluids.

“You,” Nathaniel wipes the come from Charles’ face and proceeds to smear it all over the omega’s chest, mixing their releases, covering as much of the boy’s skin as he can manage. “You’re magnificent Charles. Wonderful. I can see why Sebastian wants to keep you all to himself.” He climbs off the bed, wiping up with one of the towels Sean left, taking his time to pull on his underwear and pants.

He doesn’t really expect an answer; Charles is barely conscious now, unable to put up even a token resistance. Time to let the boy have his well earned rest.

“Come now angel.” He lifts the omega gingerly into his arms, his words accompanied by a fond chuckle. “Let’s get you in the bath and clean you up. Sebastian will be waiting.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! And with the long promised update featuring Erik and Raven (finally). Hope you like this chapter which is mostly plot :)
> 
> Warning in this chapter - there is description of non-con that happened previously. I really should just say, again, that this whole fic is likely to be triggering for some and all tags should be heeded.
> 
> Thanks for reading!

_“Erik!”_

_He’s drowning. The water is dark and deep._

_Arms grab him from behind, hauling him up, up, up._

_“I’ve got you. Erik, I’ve got you.”_

___

“How is he?”

“Ribs are bruised not broken, that’s good. But he needs to rest he took a real beating from Shaw’s men.”

“The minute he’s awake he’s going to go after Charles. He’s not going to care how badly he’s hurt.”

“If he goes after him like this he’s going get himself killed. You two need to hide...and come up with a plan.”

___

 _“No, no! Stop! Erik!_ Erik!”

_They have him pinned to the deck, arms twisted behind him and more than one hard knee shoved into his back._

_“Stop, don’t hurt him!”_

_“The boys’ll stop when Mr. Lehnsherr stops fighting them Charles.”_

_“Let my brother go you sick bastard!”_

_They’re no more than two feet in front of him, Shaw on top of Charles, tearing his shirt open, yanking his pants off, shoving his fingers inside._

_“Let him go! Let him go Shaw I’m going to kill you, you son of a bitch!”_

_Charles yells and bucks against Shaw, trying to throw him off as Erik struggles and struggles and can’t get free._

_His lover, his best friend, turns towards him and looks him straight in the eye, grits his teeth and says, “It’ll be okay.”_

_Shaw slams in and chuckles, whispering filthy endearments as he rapes Charles, over and over and over, in front of him and Raven and all of his men._

_Charles closes his eyes and doesn’t look at him or Raven again._

___

“Charles!”

He jerks awake with a gasp, eyes wide and head swimming, his whole body still sore and aching. A familiar hand reaches for his as Raven’s tired face comes into view, hovering anxiously over him as he struggles to sit up. 

“Easy,” she slips an arm behind his back, easing him slowly until he’s propped up against the pillows. “We’re safe for the moment. Hank needs to take a look at you and then we need to get you something to eat.”

Erik doesn’t let go of her hand and Raven climbs onto the bed beside him and kisses him on the cheek. They’re in a small but well appointed bedroom, a large flat screen TV on the wall and a comfortable looking armchair pulled up next to the bed. “Where are we? And who the hell is Hank?”

A tall, shy looking young man in a flannel shirt and jeans steps into the room with a tray of food, setting it down on the night stand before turning to answer him, “That would be me actually; Hank McCoy. I’m one of the scientists with Shaw Pharmaceuticals and this is my house.”

He reacts instinctively, leaping forward and grabbing Hank by the shirt with both hands as he snarls, “Where is Charles? Where did Shaw take him? You have to take us to him right now!”

“Erik! Erik stop let him go,” Raven is pulling at his arms, trying to drag him back down onto the bed. “Hank’s helping us! He found us after Shaw dumped us off in the middle of nowhere and brought us back here. He’s been hiding us and fixing you up.”

To his credit the brunette doesn’t flinch, hands reaching slowly to wrap around Erik’s wrists and gently but firmly tugging him loose. “Charles will be in the compound, in the residential wing with Shaw. You won’t be able to get anywhere near him, between Shaw’s men and the state of the art security in place.” 

“I have to do something! Charles is in danger!” Anger and fear for his lover burns bright and fierce, his blood thrumming with the need to do _something, anything_ to get to Charles and murder that bastard Shaw.

Hank’s face grimaces in sympathy but he doesn’t back down from Erik’s outburst. “I’m sorry. I know he’s your omega and Raven’s brother but you can’t rescue him, not without a plan and without help.” He shifts uncomfortably, shoving the glasses higher on the bridge of his nose and continues, “Anyway, he’s uninjured at least. I talked to my friend Sean last night – he works at the residence - and he saw Charles briefly. He was tired but coherent from what Sean could see.”

“What is that fucker doing to my brother Hank?” Raven is livid, eyes red and face splotchy from impotent rage. “Is he...is Shaw still...”

Erik knows exactly what Shaw is doing – had known the moment they were pulled out of the damaged lifeboat by Shaw’s men that this was a possibility. The way the man’s eyes had lighted on Charles immediately, hunger and lust transparent to him and Raven both as Shaw welcomed them aboard with an easy manner and sleazy charm. 

“Shaw’s taken Charles as his latest omega,” Hank’s face is a riot of emotions – repulsion, anger and sympathy as he explains, “He has a harem of omegas that ‘belong’ to him, only half of which are there willingly. He shares them with the other alphas and he’ll replace one once in a while when he gets bored. Charles...” And the scientist is hesitant to continue, swallowing uncomfortably at his next words. “Shaw triggered Charles’ heat yesterday and is keeping him in his room...” 

It’s difficult not to lash out viciously at Hank’s words, though he knows it’s not the other man who’s responsible for their current predicament. And a part of him knows that the scientist – another omega, recognizable from the distinctive scent though dulled by suppressants – is right; he has to keep his rage in check and use it to fuel his actions instead of letting it take him over. He owes it to Charles to maintain a cool head and find his lover and get them all off the island.

He squeezes Raven tighter against his side and gives her a kiss on the forehead. “We’ll get him back, I swear it Raven. We’ll find Charles and then I’m going to gut that monster Shaw.”

“I know,” she squeezes his arm and gives him a fierce grin before tucking her head under his chin. “I know because I’m going to help you and there’s nothing that’s going to stop us from getting to Charles.” 

Hank just stands by quietly and watches, until Erik turns to eye him critically. “You work for Shaw but you’re helping us. Why? How do I know you’re not just setting us up under his orders?”

Raven and Hank share a look and then the omega pulls one of his sleeves up to reveal a bracelet on his arm. “This is a location tracker. Everyone on the island wears one except for Shaw, his alphas and Essex the head of R&D. I was lucky; Essex intervened on my behalf since I’m his lead researcher in the labs. Usually it’s a collar.” He rubs at the bracelet absently and looks away towards the only window in the room. “You don’t want to know what happens if you wander off the island with the tracker on.”

And then Hank shares his story, Raven nodding along, obviously having heard it before. Recruited straight from university when his research caught the eye of Nathaniel Essex, he was enticed to the island with promises of a bright and profitable future with the world’s leading pharmaceutical company. It wasn’t until he’d arrived that he realized the mistake – that Shaw was a megalomaniac who kept the residents of his island veritable prisoners and had set himself up as dictator of his own paradise nation.

Erik tucks into his meal, half listening, as Hank tells them about the island’s population of two hundred, all working for Shaw. His nerves are raw and he’s still sick at the thought of Charles in Shaw’s hands but he needs to regain his strength with food and rest. The other two realize after a while that he’s no longer listening, his mind pre-occupied with his missing lover.

“You should rest. Stay in bed, maybe watch some TV,” Hank grabs the remote from the night stand and hands it to Erik. “Shaw had a whole communications network built so you can get pretty much any station you want with the satellite.”

Raven stands and grabs the empty tray and dishes, snorting derisively as she heads towards the door. “So nice of him to share with the little people.”

The young man shrugs and rubs the back of his neck before answering, “Well it’s really another way to control us. He and Essex like to broadcast to everybody on the island when they’ve got something to say...”

Erik watches as the other two wander out of the room, snippets of Raven’s sarcastic remarks and Hank’s shy comments filtering in before he turns on the television and their conversation is promptly drowned out. 

He falls asleep, remote in hand, thinking about their situation and weighing their options...

...and wakes up to the sound of his own name, coming from the TV.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry to make you wait so long for this chapter after I ended the last one with a cliffhanger...
> 
> Warnings: Non-con, exhibitionism x 1000, somnophilia, Shaw being a megalomaniac/crazy creep, Erik is traumatized, author has reserved a warm seat in Hell.
> 
> (On a serious note - please, please note all the tags and trigger warnings thanks).

_“...might be worried about Charles. Let me assure you and Miss Xavier that he is in excellent hands and I am doing my utmost to take very good care of my new omega.”_

Erik stares at the screen, eyes struggling to comprehend the image in front of him as he wills himself awake. It’s Shaw, with that smug, condescending voice, taunting him in pristine and glorious HD.

The alpha is dressed casually in a white dress shirt and cream colored slacks with his collar open and top two buttons loose. He appears to be sprawled comfortably on a bed with red sheets, propped up on one elbow as he speaks into the camera.

To Erik. 

_“...lucky he’s so distracting Mr. Lehnsherr. Charles has proven to be the most delightful companion so far. And so accommodating,”_ Shaw grins and the camera pans back to reveal the body laying face down beside him, soft silk sheet draped artfully over the curve of a very familiar backside.

He wants to tear his eyes away from the scene before him. He wants to vomit or scream or throw something at the TV. Instead Erik remains riveted in front of the screen, devouring the sight of Charles lying so still on the bed either asleep or unconscious. Shaw is stroking his back gently, running his hands along his sides and highlighting the myriad bruises and bite marks all over the pale flesh of his lover’s body.

 _“He’s exhausted poor thing. You know how demanding omegas in heat can be, Erik. May I call you Erik?”_ the bastard smirks and whispers in a conspiring tone, _“I’ve had to fuck him practically non-stop for the past two days and he’s still not satisfied. Oh how he begs me with his pretty little mouth, to take him over and over again...”_

Rooted in place, his heart racing and mind blank Erik can only stare in disbelief as Shaw continues to mock him. 

_“...know you’re hiding somewhere, my boy and I hope you’re smart enough to stay hidden. Charles will be keeping me very busy for the next few days but don’t worry; I’ll be coming for you and Miss Xavier very soon. I suggest you use what little time you have to...”_

He doesn’t remember getting out of bed or making his way across the room towards the TV. His fingers lightly trace the outline of Charles’ prone figure on the screen and he pleas silently for his lover to move or say something; anything to indicate that he knows Erik will come for him.

Shaw grins into the camera and the pleased expression on the man’s face fills him with dread. 

_“It’s been so nice chatting with you Erik, though unfortunately it’s time for me to go. I do have...things to get back to.”_ The words are punctuated with a sharp tug of the silk sheet and Erik howls in anguish at the sight of Charles completely nude, Shaw’s fingers dragging through the come leaking out of him.

 _“Gorgeous, isn’t he? I know you must miss him very much. You must be going crazy with worry, wondering how he’s been and what he’s been doing. Well let it not be said that Sebastian Shaw is a poor host!”_ Erik watches as the camera centers on Shaw’s face and he tries desperately to brace himself for whatever’s coming next. _“Let me show you how much Charles is enjoying his stay.”_

And then the camera cuts away from Shaw’s face, replaced by a different shot of the same room and the same silk covered bed.

Charles’ breathless moans fill the room, his cries and whimpers hauntingly familiar as Erik watches his lover slide up and down on Shaw’s lap, fucking himself with wild abandon on Shaw’s cock.

_“What do you want, sweetheart? Say it again.”_

_“Sebastian...want...fuck me. Ha..harder please...please, oh please...”_

\---

He chuckles softly; tossing the camera’s controller onto the nightstand as he slowly undresses for bed. Sebastian hopes the wayward alpha saw his message; it’s sure to provide extra motivation for Lehnsherr’s rage and some added interest and excitement to the hunt. And sharing the lovely footage has the added benefit of rewarding his own people for their hard work and loyalty; he’s certain the staff on the island will be quite pleased to enjoy his new addition, in their own way.

Charles is still sound asleep, exhausted from his second day in heat and Sebastian’s drug enhanced stamina. None of the alpha’s movements – climbing into the bed, pressing his body against the smooth skin, fingers trailing the come along his thighs – draws any reaction from his beautiful omega.

 _‘You’re perfect’_ , Sebastian thinks as he kisses the nape of Charles’ neck, running a gentle hand along the curve of his spine.

 _‘So beautiful’_ , as his hands spread the firm ass cheeks apart, his cock sinking in and bottoming out in the warm hole still wet and loose.

Sebastian rocks in and out, taking his time, enjoying the feel of the tight channel stretched all around him. The strokes are slow and deep as he whispers meaningless endearments in the sleeping boy’s ear and fucks him over and over like the precious thing he is. 

With a grunt he comes, his orgasm causing him to slam one last time into the receptive body beneath him, the hard thrust and hot spurts dragging a low moan from Charles’ lips. Sebastian kisses him again, brushing the hair from his forehead before shifting them both onto their sides and pulling the sheets over their still joined bodies.

 _‘Mine’_ , is the last thing on his mind as he drifts off to sleep, his softening cock nestled deep inside his favorite new distraction.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this chapter: Forced pleasure of the non-con variety.

The footage airs all night, broadcasting over every single channel.

Erik’s anguished cry brings Hank and Raven running, concerned looks twisting into horror and disbelief as they follow his gaze towards the screen. The young omega turns his head away immediately, mumbling under his breath as he scrambles blindly to find the remote control. Raven darts back out of the room, the sounds of her retching sobs barely piercing through the haze, lost as he is in layers of impotent rage.

He doesn’t know how – doesn’t remember how he got there – but he’s alone again and sitting on the bed, watching the flickering images playing endlessly in the empty darkness. Hours and hours of his lover in heat, Shaw taking twisted pleasure from the man Erik swore to love and protect for the rest of their lives.

It’s punishment, or penance, forcing himself to watch the muted scenes. Charles suffered through this – is _still_ suffering - and the least Erik can do is bear witness to the violation and share the pain with him in a small way. 

It won’t fix the damage done or make it better but in this and in all things, Erik will never leave Charles alone.

\---

It’s late in the morning before he finally emerges from the room, making his way quietly to the kitchen where Hank is sitting at the breakfast table with Raven. Erik ignores their concerned faces and walks past them to pour a cup of coffee, letting the strong brew coat the bitterness in his mouth.

The silence is deafening, though Erik has neither the energy nor the inclination to ease the tension in the room. He merely sits, eyes straight ahead while the other two share nervous glances - no doubt concerned for his state of mind. 

A warm tropical breeze wafts gently through the open window; the light glinting sharp and bright off the azure blue of the sea. They're on an island paradise, run by a mad man, cut off from civilization. It's so ludicrous Erik can hardly believe it's truly happening; only a week ago they were home, celebrating Charles' new position as Assistant Professor at Columbia. 

He turns his attention to McCoy, watching the boy squirm uncomfortably from Erik's unwavering gaze. "Tell me everything you know about Sebastian Shaw."

\---

_“We should go on a trip. To celebrate.”_

_Charles looks up from the paper he’s reading and arches an eyebrow at his lover. “Did you, Erik Lehnsherr, just suggest we take some time off? Like a vacation?” He grins and can’t help teasing as the other man drops down on the sofa beside him. “Who are you and what have you done with the workaholic love of my life?”_

_Erik rolls his eyes and plucks the Journal from his hands before tossing it on the coffee table next to the staggering pile of empty cups. “Don’t be cheeky Charles.”_

_“Oh dear,” he moans the words like a breathless plea and Erik’s eyes narrow dangerously as Charles licks his lips. “Are you going to push me down and spank me?”_

 _“You,” Erik growls, shoving him onto the cushions and pressing his long, lithe body against him, “Stop distracting me with that sexy voice and your gorgeous face.” Charles reaches up and grabs a handful of ass and Erik groans, “I’m trying to talk to you.”_

_Humming a wordless agreement he surges forward and pulls Erik into a deep kiss, mouth warm and hungry before he pants, “Fuck now, talk later.”_

\---

Hands on his skin and the movements are slow and soft; a light touch rubs teasing circles on his hip.

Soothing lips follow the curve of a shoulder, licking and pressing kisses on every dip and freckle.

A cock, growing harder moment by moment, is buried inside him, pressing him open with each rhythmic thrust.

Charles arches against the body behind him, waking slowly to the delicious feel of being fucked and filled with such gentle care. The grip on his hip tightens as teeth bite down on the spot between neck and shoulder and a wild surge of lust makes him moan long and low into the pillow. 

Hands move again, dragging him up on his knees, Charles following easily as he pushes back to take the other man deeper. It’s good – oh so _good_ and he shudders as the pace starts to pick up. His cock feels full to bursting already and the fingers that wrap around his length, stroking him steadily wrenches another breathless moan from his lips.

The need is a banked inferno, waiting to erupt and Charles can feel it building rapidly as the hard shaft continues to pump in and out of him. It’s faster now, more power and less control and the last slam into his tight hole rips a harsh cry from his lips and makes his toes curl with desperate pleasure.

Charles is close, so close to coming and he starts to babble nonsensically; _‘please’_ , _‘oh god there’_ and _‘more’_ like a prayer as he pants and moans and grips the slippery sheets between his fingers. So lost in the euphoric haze he barely registers the voice that whispers tenderly against his ear, “Come for me, my gorgeous pet.”

He clenches tight and the voice – _Shaw_ – groans loud and fervent and oh god it’s Sebastian Shaw fucking him again and Charles doesn’t want this no, no, no...

It’s takes but a moment and he’s tipping over the edge, Shaw slamming recklessly into him now, and it feels like the other man is trying to crawl inside his body. He can’t breathe for the intense rush of lust and horror that courses through him; can’t make another sound as Shaw pins him down and fucks him and Charles comes and comes and comes.

When Shaw finishes - jerking three, four times as he spurts his release and fills him, mixing his semen with the dregs from the night before - he slumps down on top of Charles and kisses him fondly on the back of his head. It’s such a tender gesture, a violation worse than anything else he has done to the omega so far because he’s Charles’ _rapist_ , not his lover. 

The bile chokes the words forming in his throat; the utter disgust at himself and Shaw paralyzes his whole body. He lays there without a sound and doesn’t protest when Sebastian pulls out of him, wet and sloppy before rolling him gently onto his back.

“Good morning,” the alpha is smiling, his eyes twinkling with satisfaction and Charles has to bite back the urge to scream and scream and scream. “Such a good boy for me, so lovely and eager for me to fuck you.”

“I didn’t,” he manages to say, voice weak and winded, “I didn’t...not you. Never you. You don’t...”

Shaw cuts him off with a heated kiss, tongue probing every inch of his mouth, teeth worrying Charles’ lips until they’re dark and swollen. A long finger teases the rim of his entrance and he bucks in response; he can’t rightly tell if it’s to get closer or farther away. A hand holds him down, cradling the nape of his neck as he’s penetrated again with two fingers working in and out of him at a leisurely pace.

“You do,” he caresses the side of Charles’ face with his thumb, planting light kisses on his nose, cheek and behind his earlobe between each insistent murmur. “You wanted it, begged for it. And you can’t blame it on the heat because you’re not lost to it, not yet. You’re right here. All of you. In this moment. With me.”

“No, no! I don’t...please...,” he gasps, blunt fingers digging in deep and spreading him wide. “Please stop.”

An amused chuckle falls from Sebastian’s lips as he ignores the omega’s pleas, twisting and probing until Charles is hard and aching once more, desperate and writhing against him. “That’s it, lovely. You’ll come for me again won’t you pet?”

Four fingers split him open as he comes, the orgasm cresting fast and violent, his cries muffled by Sebastian’s mouth over his. It leaves him breathless and ruined, body thrumming from the rapturous high.

“Beautiful,” Shaw smears his sticky fingers over Charles’ lips with a pleased smile and pulls the younger man into his arms. “You’re going to be the highlight of the party.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is Part 1 of Shaw's Birthday Party with Part 2 is in the works and likely up in a couple of days. I thought about holding off and posting one big chapter but this will provide incentive for me to finish writing it and not get distracted (or put it off for another 4 months)! :0)
> 
> PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS/TAGS as I update them! I will also continue to put warnings at the top of each chapter that requires it. As always, I encourage you not to read this if non-con is triggering or upsetting and you've somehow stumbled across this fic by accident. 
> 
> CHAPTER WARNINGS: Non-con, kinbaku, blowjobs, orgy
> 
> Also, here is a reference picture for how Charles is being posed: http://www.hikarikesho.com/hikarikesho/fineart1000/foto-fineart-%20shi%20006.htm

“What the _actual_ fuck?”

 _Surprising_ , Nathaniel thinks, that Logan is the first to arrive in the party room tonight. Three years of employment and the alpha’s relationship with Sebastian is still tenuous at best; his unexpected arrival and subsequent ordeal still a point of contention for the man who almost died at Shaw’s hands. If it weren’t for Logan’s feelings for the omega Jean Grey...well, the doctor is fairly certain the rough mercenary currently standing with his mouth hanging half open would’ve put a bullet in Sebastian’s head long ago.

“Logan! Pleasure as always. I would’ve expected your arrival much later in the evening. You’re usually not so keen to participate in this type of...entertainment.”

The other man ignores him, eyes rooted to the spectacle in the darkened room as Nathaniel finishes tying the last of the knots. Logan is clenching his fists unconsciously as he edges closer, inhaling deep gulping breaths of omega in the last throes of heat. Eyes dilated and shoulders tense, he looks to be on the edge of the precipice, ready to fall into the exhilarating depths of Charles Xavier.

He tries to view his creation from Logan’s point of view and appreciate the omega as an aggressive, overly hormonal alpha. The boy is bewitching; miles of silky smooth skin glowing under the warmth of the spotlight, crimson rope knotted in intricate patterns across his chest and hips. He is suspended from the ceiling on a harness attached to the ropes binding him, in an artful, horizontal recline that manages to be both demure and arousing. Arms are tied behind his back and legs splayed wide, one leg pulled straight in the air and the other bent at the knee. The position highlights the omega exquisitely; the long arch of an elegant neck, the metal ring around his swollen cock and the plug embedded between the swell of his unblemished ass cheeks.

Logan blinks, taking an uneasy step back from the display and growls, “You’ve got to be kidding me, Essex. Fuck...this is his new omega?”

“Yes,” he chuckles, sliding his finger along the ropes in a crisscrossed pattern over the toned chest, lightly freckled skin contrasting beautifully against the blood red ties. He gently nudges Charles’ shoulder, sending him into a slow, languid spin above the raised black dias. “Glorious isn’t he?”

The other man shakes his head, rubbing his face before glaring at the bound omega suspended like a pagan virgin offering to the gods of debauchery. “Jesus, Doc. He looks just like--”

“...the deceased Mr. Frost-Shaw, yes I know,” Nathaniel answers with a bemused grin. “Though I doubt Sebastian is aware of it. That his obsession has anything to do with the boy’s resemblance to his beloved husband.”

He should have realized much sooner himself, the similarities between Charles Xavier and Christian Frost; both scions of old money, Oxford educated and brilliant in the field of alpha/omega genetics research. Slim. Athletic. An easy going manner masking a sharp tongue and a sharper wit. A brunette twin to the blond omega spouse that Shaw genuinely loved and then lost to his own greed and arrogance.

A lusty moan interrupts their discussion, drawing Logan’s rapt attention to the flush of the boy's face as he arches and tugs seductively against his restraints. The last day of an omega’s heat is all consuming and the burning, blistering need to mate has completely overwhelmed Charles’ ability to think or speak. Nathaniel circles the platform until he is standing directly behind the boy, taking a step up to grip him around the waist. He removes the plug slowly, replacing it with a larger, silicone dildo that slides easily into place, the tight channel eased by his own slick and Shaw’s frequent use. 

“Good?” he whispers into the boy’s ear, chuckling at the way the omega shudders and cries out, trying unsuccessfully to push back against him. “Does it fill you up? Feel familiar?” he teases, “It should. It’s the exact size and shape of Sebastian’s cock; he had it made just for you to wear when he’s not around. So even when he’s not fucking you...he’s still fucking you.”

Charles answers him with a desperate whine that sends a shiver down his spine, a jolt of lust making his own cock hard and aching. Logan is faring no better, backing away slowly until he reaches the bar and grabs an expensive scotch off the shelf, taking a long, desperate drink straight from the bottle.

“Why?” Logan licks his lips and then swallows another mouthful, eyes darting back and forth between Nathaniel and Charles on the platform. “Why...all this?” he growls, waving his hand at the ropes, the lights, the lewd display of the unwilling. “He’s never put on a show like this with his other omegas before. What’s he up to? Is he going--”

“Because it’s my birthday Logan,” Shaw’s honeyed voice interrupts as the man himself enters the room with his men in tow; Azazel, Janos and Victor trailing behind him, their expressions conveying varying degrees of amusement to glee to violent lust at the display in the center of the room. “And I do so enjoy sharing it with my loyal friends.”

Nathaniel steps away quickly as Sebastian approaches, the man’s eyes devouring the sight of his omega like a spider with a deliciously writhing fly caught in its web.

“Beautiful,” he whispers, hopping onto the dias and then leaning forward to inhale the sweet scent pouring off the boy’s glistening skin. He kisses Charles long and deep, nipping and dragging a breathy moan from those luscious lips before turning to the Doctor with a grin and asks, “All done?”

“Almost. I just need to give him his shot. Ease his symptoms a bit like we discussed.” 

“Good, good.” Shaw turns to the others and waves his hand towards the bar, though his eyes never leave the man suspended in front of him. “Grab a drink. Eat. Relax and enjoy the lovely view. We’ll begin when the others get here.”

\---

Time passes. It’s an endless haze of lust and fire.

His skin is burning and stretched too tight; his body strains from the ache.

He feels weightless and unmoored.

He needs to be touched; to have hands all over him. Lips, teeth, cock. Everywhere. Anywhere. Now. _Now_.

\---

Slowly, slowly, the haze starts to recede, just enough for Charles to become aware of his surroundings, akin to waking from a fevered dream. It must be hours, he thinks, since the last day of his heat began, bound and violated on Shaw’s bed.

He coughs – and gags, throat constricting around the thick, hard cock currently fucking his mouth ruthlessly. Hands on either side of his head grip him tightly as the man thrusts in and out, intent on his own rising pleasure. There are other people in the room talking and laughing and then Shaw’s voice, tone deceptively placid, cuts through the hum of activity buzzing all around him. 

“Victor, Victor. Gentle with the things that don’t belong to you.”

The man – Victor – growls but does ease his grip a little, fingers unfurling slightly from Charles’ hair though his relentless pace remains unchanged. He continues to snap his hips back and forth, grunting and panting and muttering obscenities before slamming in one last time and shooting his release straight down the omega’s throat with a roar. Charles is forced to swallow it all even as he chokes from the rough handling, gasping for air when the alpha finally pulls out of his mouth. 

“Omega slut,” Victor breathes, yanking his head back and baring his neck, licking the swath of skin from his clavicle to the back of his ear, “he’ll get bored with you eventually you know. And when he does, I’m going to fuck your tight little hole until you bleed.” 

“Victor!” Shaw snaps, and this time the warning is unmistakable, “I think you’re finished here.”

The burly man laughs, a mocking rumble that makes his stomach clench, adrenaline and fear mixing confusedly and fueling his body’s desperate need to be mated. He closes his eyes until the overwhelming presence of the alpha moves away, mouth clamped shut to keep from pleading for relief from the persistent ache. He hangs suspended and untouched for some time, taking heaving breaths to calm himself as the mingled scent of rutting alphas and omegas soak through every pore in his skin.

Music fills the richly furnished room, serving to accentuate the moans of pleasure and occasional cries of pain. It’s dark and his eyes are half blinded by the spotlight on his face but he can just make out Victor sprawled on one corner of the leather sectional by the bar, a blond omega kneeling between his thighs. He has a large hand on the back of the young man’s head, pushing him to take the alpha’s substantial girth in his mouth. Next to him are two more people, a brunette omega straddling the waist of another alpha, the intricate dragonfly wings tattooed on her back undulating to the music as she rides him with enthusiasm.

There are others behind him or situated closer to the door across from the bar; conspicuous flashes of skin on scantily clad omegas and glimpses of the mostly clothed alphas. The sights and sounds are disconcerting and bewildering and Charles finds every part of him yearning for an anchor, a focus that’s more substantial and fulfilling than the hard, unmoving dildo stretching him open.

And then there are strong hands wrapping around him, as though Charles had summoned them from thin air, pressing the long line of his naked back against a firm chest. Fingers trace the knots and whirls of red branded across his skin, slipping ever so slowly down his body until they rest lightly on his hips. 

“Lovely,” the man says, his voice deep and accented and unfamiliar to Charles, “I have wanted to taste your sweetness since Sebastian first had you on the yacht.” Firm hands pry his ass cheeks apart and Charles can’t contain the breathless moan as the dildo is dragged out of him slowly, leaving him slick and empty and yearning to be filled. “Don’t worry my pretty omega, I will make this good for us both.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More of the party in the next chapter as Charles gets intimately acquainted with Shaw's men...


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is Part 2 of Shaw's Birthday Party and the end of Charles' heat. Subsequent chapters will move the plot ahead because it's bloody hell time for Charles to find a way to get free and back to Erik and Raven. :0)
> 
> PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS/TAGS I've added. Thank you.
> 
> CHAPTER WARNINGS: Non-con, gang rape, spit roast, orgasm delay
> 
> Also, here is a new reference picture for how Charles is re-tied (except without the wings): http://www.hikarikesho.com/hikarikesho/fineart100/foto-fineart-y%20favourite%20little%20bird.htm

The hands leave him, gentle and caressing as they slide from Charles’ ass to the ropes that are holding him in place. He is shifted around by the man behind him, repositioned and rebound with his thighs tied to this calves, chest tilted until he is kneeling forward in midair. It’s an even more vulnerable pose than the one before, his body laid out like a feast for the taking.

The hands return to spread him wide and a tongue, soft and wet, licks the juices trailing down his thighs before flickering to taste his opening. He moans and tries to arch back, though he can’t move and can’t brace himself, suspended as he is and completely at the mercy of another’s touch. He can’t demand his freedom or his pleasure; can only exist in the moment and take what is given to him.

“Delicious,” the voice rumbles, the man kneeling on the dias with his face buried between Charles’ ass cheeks. “So wet and ready to be fucked.” More licks as the tongue darts in and out, a long finger and then another, slipping in alongside as Charles lets out a shuddering sigh. “We're going to take our time and enjoy this,” the man says, just before a nip on his buttock sends a sharp burst of pleasure to Charles’ groin, the burn soothed by the warm swipe of a tongue. “I’m going to make you moan and fill your tight little hole with my come.”

There are shouts from the surrounding dark – “Yeah, fuck him good” and “Make the slut beg for it” – but the man ignores them and continues to lick, opening him up, probing and pushing as Charles writhes under his ministrations. He groans as more of his slick drips from his hole and down his thighs and still the man doesn’t stop, devouring Charles like a man starved. He’s breathless and close to bursting; his cock swollen and neglected, orgasm hanging frustratingly out of reach. It’s both too much and not enough and the desperation and rising lust narrows the room to nothing more than his own ragged breathing and the slurping sounds of slick and skin.

He cries out when the warm body behind him shifts away, fingers and tongue slipping out of him, followed by a low, pleased chuckle amidst the mocking laughter of their audience. The man returns a moment later, pressing his body tight against Charles and whispers, “Come on baby, open up.”

And then the alpha pushes in slow and steady and Charles feels himself unfurling around the hard cock, welcoming as it sinks inside him to the hilt, blunt and perfect. He keens at the sensation, throwing his head back only to have his face tilted and his mouth devoured in a deep, possessive kiss. 

“Good?” the man asks, rolling his hips and pulling out slowly, before slamming back in and dragging a loud gasp from the omega’s lips. He continues to fuck him this way, sliding out languidly until only the tip of his cock remains sheathed, and then shoving all the way in and bottoming out, wrenching breathless cries from Charles over and over. 

“Fuck, you feel so good,” the alpha grunts, his pace picking up, filling Charles with powerful thrusts, pounding him roughly. Every hard slide rubs against the sensitive spot inside him, jolts of molten heat tearing through his body as he chases the immeasurable high, desperate and clamoring for _more_. 

“You want this? Want me to fuck you harder?” Fingers dig into his hips for leverage, the words whispered into his ear as the omega rocks back and forth to the punishing rhythm.

“Please,” he gasps, the pleasure maddeningly intense as the grip tightens, leaving bruises on his skin. “Mo...more.”

A hand cups his cheek, startling him from the plundering of his tight channel, his eyes darting up to see another man standing in front of him. The new alpha has shoulder length brown hair and tanned skin, his dark eyes filled with gleeful anticipation as he grins down at Charles. He leans forward and gives the omega sweet, soft kisses on his lips and all over his face, before flicking his eyes over his shoulder to the man rutting behind him.

“Mind if I join in, Azazel?” he says, voice rough with arousal.

Azazel laughs, the sound reverberating through Charles’ entire body from where they’re joined together, his hole used and open. “Janos! Of course! He is too delightful not to share.”

Janos chuckles and unzips his pants, pulling his cock out and resting it against Charles’ lips. He grasps the omega’s chin, pressing the wet tip forward until Charles has no choice but to open his mouth and take it all in. 

He can taste the salty pre-come as Janos pushes in, mingling with the remnants of Victor’s semen on his tongue. The alpha groans and says something about his mouth that makes Azazel chuckle, before driving his hips forward and sliding his shaft further down Charles’ throat. His grip is gentle as he rocks back and forth, taking his mouth at a leisurely pace as Azazel continues to shove into him relentlessly from behind.

They settle into a steady rhythm as they fuck him, moving him in tandem, speared and splayed for their pleasure and amusement. There are lewd remarks from the onlookers – “Dirty slut” or “Yeah, fucking take it” - but the two are focused only on Charles, on the way he moans around Janos bucking into his mouth and the way he clenches down, gripping Azazel’s cock like a vise.

He craves connection, the freedom to touch; to hold onto Jano’s hips for support as he slides his tongue along the thick shaft, licking and sucking. He longs for their caresses all over his body, for their lips to taste the beads of sweat clinging to his skin. He’s delirious with the need to come, his own shaft swollen and leaking, the cock ring holding him hostage to the whims of the men using him. But neither of the alphas gives Charles what he needs, leaving him whimpering and breathless and on the razor’s edge of ecstasy.

Azazel is the first to lose control, a final savage thrust that knocks Charles forward, gagging him on Jano’s cock. The alpha digs his fingers into the soft swell of Charles’ ass and comes with a shout, filling his insides with an endless flood of hot, sticky seed. Janos follows with a long, rapturous groan, pumping his own release down Charles’ throat, the omega swallowing it all down with desperate, heaving gulps. 

He whines when they pull out of him, skin still burning and unsatisfied, crying out for more as the two men take turns kissing him roughly. Soon enough he’s alone again in the middle of the room, struggling helplessly against his restraints, wondering how long he has to wait before the next alpha will come and fuck him. Use him and fill him up, over and over and over until these wretched, unbearable urges are finally sated. 

Though even then, the evening’s unlikely to end. He knows Shaw is in the room somewhere, watching and waiting.

And he’ll be coming for Charles soon. He always does.

*****

Sebastian likes to watch.

He likes to watch his men take their pleasure and enjoy the fruits of their loyalty, free to eat all the expensive foods, drink the rarest wines and fuck the loveliest omegas money can buy.

He likes to watch his bevy of omegas, each stunning and unique and enjoyable to fuck, in various positions and states of undress around the room. Sebastian enjoys them all – the ones like Angel, so fierce and passionate, delighting in the many luxuries available to her on the island or like Alex, angry and rebellious and still fighting his role providing entertainment and gratification to the alphas under his employ.

But most of all he loves to watch Charles, his beautiful new muse, a tempting vision of innocence debauched. Loves the way his omega chokes around Victor’s cock, the red of his lips stretched wide and wet. Loves the sounds he makes when Azazel thrusts inside his delectable ass, whining as he takes every hard shove and gasps for more. Loves to watch the bob of his Adam’s apple when Janos pours his come down his throat, tiny pearls of white trickling from the corner of his sinful mouth. 

There are occasional flashes of disquiet; twinges of possessive rage that he pushes down with relative ease. Charles is _his_ omega – as are all the omegas at the compound – available to the others but belonging to Sebastian alone. It comforts him; that his claim on Charles is absolute and his generosity in giving the others a taste will do nothing to change it. In fact, he will enjoy the posturing and maneuvering by his men to win favors for more time with Charles, access he will pretend to consider with no intention of granting.

His eyes roam around the room from his usual spot, a luxurious and overstuffed white leather recliner where he can oversee the party in its entirety. They settle on Logan, still attached to the bar with a drink in his hand, gaze fixed on the center of the room. The mercenary is his favorite of all his men; certainly not for any love or loyalty the alpha has for his employer, but for his grim practicality and unparalleled survival instincts.

And luckily, he also has a weakness that Sebastian is all too happy to exploit.

“Logan, where is the lovely Miss Grey this evening? She’s missing out on an excellent party.”

The other man scowls as Sebastian approaches, answering with barely concealed irritation, “She’s not feeling well. I told her to rest.”

“Yes, that’s probably wise,” Sebastian says, smiling as he takes a sip of his martini before setting the glass on the bar. He pauses for a moment to watch Logan again, noticing with amusement that the man’s eyes are heated and focused on Charles. He waves his hand towards the omega, leaning close as he purrs, “Perhaps you would like to have a turn then? Since Jean is unavailable.”

“What? No, no. No! I don’t want your boy. I’ve got…no.” Logan shakes his head and takes a step back but Sebastian knows what he sees, the telltale flash of lust and hunger darkening the other alpha’s gaze.

He grins, careful to keep his tone light as he answers, “Too bad. He’s quite lovely, though not as elegant or experienced as our darling Jean. Perhaps we should make _her_ the centerpiece at the next party? That way, you won’t feel the need to sit out of the festivities.”

The reaction is immediate, Logan snarling and gripping the edge of the bar, knuckles white with the strain of holding himself back. “Don’t you fucking dare, Shaw or I’ll—“

“Or you’ll do what?” Sebastian is still smiling, though his eyes narrow and his voice is sharp as a steel blade. “Jean is mine, on loan to you as a token of my generosity for your good behaviour. I can do whatever I like with Miss Grey and you have no say what so ever.” He raises his hand to forestall Logan’s objections, patting him on the shoulder good naturedly as he shifts into a more sympathetic tone, “Now Logan, there’s no need to be cross. I only wish for you to enjoy yourself tonight. Indulge me, by indulging yourself and we’ll put all this unpleasantness behind us.”

He pats Logan on the back and turns, confident that the other man will follow as he makes his way over to the dias. The sight of Charles calls to something deep inside every alpha in the room, making fingers itch to touch, the expanse of skin contrasting beautifully with every red knot and every smear of white glistening under the warmth of the spotlight.

“Move,” Logan growls, unbuttoning his jeans with jerky movements that do nothing to hide the anticipation laced with guilt, “let’s get this over with.”

He moves in front of Charles, reaching to tip his chin up when Sebastian grabs his arm lightly to stop him. “No, take him in the back. I want to watch you fuck him.”

Logan glares but does not argue, circling to stand behind Charles and yanking his cock out of his jeans. He strokes himself a couple of times, pre-come dripping from the head of his rock hard erection and slides in with a grunt, burying himself balls deep in one, long steady push. Leaning close, Sebastian kisses and inhales the moans that fall from Charles’ lips as the other man immediately starts fucking, the slapping sound of flesh against flesh intoxicating as Logan unleashes his coiled lust and burning resentment on the panting omega. Unlike Azazel there is no slow seduction, no gentle rocking to ease the way; Logan plows into Charles’ ass, sweat beading on his forehead as he slams in and out, chasing his release like a man possessed.

“Please, oh please,” the words desperate and ragged pour out of the gorgeous creature in his arms, igniting a rampant fire in his own gut to take and take and _take_. “I need…oh…please…”

“My sweet,” he whispers, hand sliding down and stroking Charles’ erection, purple and bruised, dragging a pained hiss of pleasure from the omega, “soon I promise. You come for me and only for me. You’ll get what you need, Charles, if you’re good.” He unbuttons his slacks, taking himself in hand and swiping the slick tip across red and swollen lips, “Suck me. I want to see that luscious mouth wrapped around my cock.” 

To his immense satisfaction Charles obeys immediately, taking him in with a hungry moan, running his tongue along Sebastian’s shaft and licking the wetness with an expression of unadulterated need. The warmth of his mouth and the sight of those red lips stretched wide around him is thrilling; indescribable pleasure racing through his body as the boy takes his entire length down his throat.

He takes his time, rocking his hips slowly, enjoying the vibrations as Charles hums and whimpers, his body jerking back and forth to Logan’s ruthless fucking. Sebastian can feel the intensity of the thrusts travelling through Charles’ body; can see and hear Logan’s orgasm mounting quickly as the slap, slap of his balls against the omega’s ass picks up speed. It’s tempting to let himself fall into the rhythm, to shove his cock in deep and feel the throat constrict around him; to take Charles’ mouth for his pleasure as he’s done so many times before. But he holds himself back, relishing the way Logan’s biceps flex as he kneads the pale flesh under his fingertips, eyes shut as he surrenders to the bliss of his imminent release. Revels in the way Charles’ toes curl as Logan digs deep and comes with a growl, lost in ecstasy as he shoots his load inside that tight, hot channel.

Logan pulls out of Charles immediately, shoving himself back into his jeans and stalking away without a word or a backwards glance. Sebastian watches him go with wry amusement, happy to let the other man stew in his own resentment with point made and his purpose served. He turns his attention back to his beautiful omega and slowly makes his way to the vacated spot between Charles’ spread thighs.

There are shouts and catcalls from the others; the whole room a restless hum of lewd commentary and wanton sex acts. Some of the alphas are keeping themselves busy, making their way from omega to omega, sampling the delights that each has to offer. Others are relaxing alone, nursing a drink or lounging comfortably on one of the soft couches, stroking themselves slowly to the vivid sights and sounds of desire and gratification. 

And all of them are still watching the center of the room, their eyes glued to the spectacle that is Sebastian’s bound and thoroughly despoiled omega.

Greedily he too devours the sight of Charles, trembling with adrenaline and gasping, _begging_ for release. He stares at the gaping entrance, fucked open, still clenching and unclenching and calling out for Sebastian to fill. Reaching to thumb the twitching flesh he smiles, pleased to see the evidence of Azazel and Logan’s pleasure leaking out and running down the creamy white thighs.

“Charles,” he coos, palming his erection, his whole being aching to get back inside that delicious ass after hours of commendable self-restraint. He pulls the omega into his arms, clothed chest against naked back and licks the spot behind Charles’ ear, making the other man shiver. 

“Charles, look at you. You’re so perfect, so gorgeous. You were made to be fucked, weren’t you? Born to take an alpha’s cock in your ass.”

He chuckles as the omega arches against him, rubbing himself franticly against Sebastian’s cock, a sinful Ganymede ripe for plunder. Charles is practically vibrating with pent-up desperation, his whole body an invitation for Shaw to own and to shatter. He happily obliges, sinking slowly inch by agonizing inch, the warm leftovers of the other men’s spend spilling out as he presses his entire length home. 

Sebastian Shaw has fucked Charles Xavier many, many times since his arrival on the island; has fucked him too many times in fact to accurately recall a number. Has fucked him in and out of heat, the omega screaming obscenities and raging against him or begging him with his ass in the air, wailing for more. And yet, every single time it fills Sebastian with a satisfaction bone-deep; makes him crave to dominate and to possess the other man wholly and completely.

“You’re still so tight,” he says, hips snapping back and forth, the clench of Charles’ ass on his cock an exquisite torture, “I can feel you sucking me in…did you do this with Azazel? And Logan? Did you milk their dicks with that luscious behind? Beg them to fill you up with their come? You’re filthy…full to the brim from being fucked.”

Charles doesn’t – can’t – answer, too lost again in a daze of blinding lust from his heat, the temporary relief granted by Essex’s drugs wearing off. But his body answers Sebastian instead, every wordless keen and every breathless moan calling the alpha, an invitation to sate his hunger on his well-used flesh. 

“Do you want to come?” he asks, knowing the answer, the body in his arms shaking as Sebastian rams into him faster and faster. “Do you want me to fill you up? Until you’re bursting with it, semen from all three of us pouring right out of you? Do you like being my filthy little slut? Tell me. Tell me and I’ll let you come.”

He slams forward hard, jarring a scream from Charles’ lips before digging in and driving into the omega, the harness swaying wildly from the force of his thrusts. Reaching around he wraps his hand on Charles’ shaft and starts to pump, reveling in the rapt attention of his audience and the frenzied thrashing of the omega on his cock.

“Say it,” he orders, “tell me you’re mine.”

“Yours!” Charles shouts, “yours!” and Sebastian laughs, unclasping the cock ring and stroking the other man once, twice before Charles goes rigid in his arms, thick ropes of semen shooting out of him, splattering creamy white all over the steps of the dias. Sebastian keeps fucking him through it, prolonging the length and the intensity of the release, the omega screaming his pleasure to the world. The tight clench of Charles’ ass milks his cock endlessly until he can’t help but follow, the world going white and soundless in a glorious, rapturous high.

There’s loud clapping now, and more shouting from the crowd, the others showing their appreciation for the show Sebastian has generously put on for their benefit. He bows, still impaled inside the omega and smiles broadly when Azazel approaches him with another martini.

“Here you go,” the alpha says with a grin, clapping a friendly hand on Sebastian’s shoulder. “It’s thirsty work.” 

He takes a slow sip before rocking forward ever so slightly, teasing a pained moan from Charles that shoots right to his groin, his cock already hardening again at the thought of another round.

“Better bring me another one,” he smirks, “since I’m just getting started.”


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charles wakes up in his new bedroom and has a conversation with Sean.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warning: non-con

The words float through the fog of sleep and exhaustion, whisper soft against his ear.

“…so good. Yes, I knew you would be but _this_ …ugh…so much better…”

He stays in that state between oblivion and wakefulness, limbs heavy and eyes weighted down from much needed rest.

“…soft. I can feel all that come inside you, Charles. I’m going to come inside you too. Going to fill…”

Hands, familiar and gentle, touching him. Exploring. Kneading.

“…won’t tell him will you, angel? No one has to know…”

Body on top, inside, all around him. Filling him over and over, hard and insatiable.

“…breed you. Our children…oh _god_ …would be magnificent…”

A grunt; hips pressed tight against him, a mouth on his own as the darkness takes him.

\---

Charles comes to with a jolt, heart racing and mind filled with half remembered images dissipating like the early morning mist. He finds himself alone for once, in a room he doesn’t recognize, tucked neatly under a luxurious down comforter.

His body aches, every inch of him sore and well used and he groans when he tries to shift, the mattress not nearly soft enough to ease the throbbing in his ass. He finds himself feeling oddly confined, skin tight and constricted though he isn’t tied to the bed or restrained in any way. It takes a few minutes to realize the strangeness he feels is the sensation of cotton against his skin; that he’s wearing _clothes_ – a sleep shirt and pajama bottoms – for the first time in a week.

Slowly, somewhat painfully, Charles pulls himself upright until he’s sitting with his back against the headboard, propped up by a sea of fluffy white pillows. The room is spacious and tastefully done, with a comfortable looking sectional in front of a giant flat-screen T.V. He counts three doors, one of which appears to be an empty walk-in closet; the others leading likely to an ensuite bathroom and the hallway outside. Opposite the bed is a wall of glass and a sliding door, opening onto a large balcony with a magnificent view of clear skies and the deep blue greens of the Indian Ocean.

The knock on the door startles him, his body tensing immediately, eyes darting around the room for a make-shift weapon. He finds it frustratingly bare of anything he can use to defend himself, void of vases, paintings or anything remotely breakable or easy to throw. Panic, total and overwhelming sweeps over him and he scrambles to get up, sluggish limbs tangling hopelessly in a trap of cashmere and silk.

The door opens just as he manages to roll off the bed and land gracelessly with a thud, his bruised body protesting with an abrupt flare of pain that knocks the breath from his lungs. By the time he’s recovered enough to move, hands are already lifting him off the floor and easing him back onto the bed, the grip light and efficient and gone again before he even has the opportunity to protest.

“You must be hungry,” the young man says, a red-head that looks vaguely familiar, dressed in a grey Henley and jeans. He returns to Charles’ side with a cart laden with enough food for four people, from Eggs Benedict and fresh baked pastries to smoked salmon, lobster, caviar and assorted breakfast meats, piled high around an enticing array of tropical fruit. Coffee, juice and a mimosa round out the opulent display and Charles’ finds himself suddenly ravenous, his stomach rumbling loudly from the decadent sights and smells. “Here, let me help you.”

He finds himself propped up on the bed once more with a silver tray on his lap, the young man quickly refilling his glass of orange juice, thirst seemingly unquenchable as his body replenishes itself post heat. Half-eating, half-inhaling a cranberry muffin, fingers already reaching for a strip of bacon Charles asks between bites, “Who are you? What do you do here?”

The young man smiles, setting a cup of steaming coffee on the tray for Charles before heading over to grab the laundry bag by the door. “I’m Sean. We’ve met but you probably don’t remember. I work for Dr. Essex here in the residential wing. It’s my job to see to the needs of everyone living here.”

It does come back to him then, a memory of his first night in heat; Sean helping him drink a glass of water with gentle hands and sympathetic eyes.

“You seem so… _normal_ , Sean. What are you doing here, working for someone like Shaw? And Essex?”

The red head hums, busy unpacking a stack of fluffy white towels and carrying them into the bathroom with quick and efficient strides. He continues to work as he answers, watching Charles devour his breakfast out of the corner of his eye. “Didn’t have a choice, really. I’m stuck on this island here with my best friend…his name’s Alex. He’s one of Shaw’s omegas now. We were traveling together, backpacking through Eastern Europe. Went out one night drinking in Budapest and woke up here in the compound. Victor saw Alex and liked him I guess; decided to grab us and bring us to Shaw.” Sean scowls, movements jerky as he slides bottle after bottle of expensive mineral water into the mini fridge. “I’m a beta, so they had no burning need for me. They probably would have dumped me in the ocean if it hadn’t been for Essex, pleading my case.

“See this?” he continues, fingers grazing the collar around his neck, a tiny chip embedded in the thin band of leather. “It’s a tracker. They can find you anywhere on the island and it gives you a nasty electric shock if you try to take it off without the right equipment. They’ve got all the researchers and lab techs wearing them; everybody really except Shaw’s men and Essex. And some of the omegas.”

Charles swallows his mouthful of eggs, a wave of nausea threatening to empty his stomach at the thought of an entire island held hostage by a mad man. “Not all?” he asks, his hand moving involuntarily to his neck to confirm the lack of a collar. 

Sean chuckles, “They only collar the ones they think might try to escape and not all the omegas are here unwillingly. And one of the alphas has a wrist tracker on him – Logan – cause Shaw doesn’t trust him not to try and take Jean off the island.”

The name sparks a recall of the night before, a rather well-endowed man with rough hands, sinking into Charles and fucking him with intensity and naked desire. He cringes inwardly at his body’s visceral reaction to the memory, a surge of lust that makes him clench tight around the phantom cock he can still feel inside him. 

Charles is a scientist and an expert in the field of alpha, beta and omega gene research; he knows better than anyone the physiological effects and the lack of inhibition and comprehension that overcomes an omega during heat. He knows what happened to him last night was the very opposite of informed consent…and yet he can’t help but feel a twinge of shame for his own actions and reactions to being raped by Shaw and his men. 

He pushes aside the revulsion to deal with when he’s alone; right now he needs to secure an ally in his mission to get back to Erik and Raven. “Please Sean,” he calls out as the young man finishes packing his supplies and starts heading towards the door, “you have to help me get out of here.” 

“Look Charles, I’m sorry,” Sean answers, shaking his head. “There really isn’t anything I can do for you right now. You don’t have a tracker on you yet but that’s because you’re being confined to your room until Shaw says otherwise. And even if you somehow get past the guards and the cameras the only way off the island is by Shaw’s yacht or his helicopter. You’re stuck here like the rest of us.”

“I can’t just sit around and do nothing! I have to find Erik and my sister! Shaw’s a lunatic, he’s going to kill them!”

Sean winces at Charles’ outburst but doesn’t leave the room, turning instead to grab an oversized white bathrobe left on the couch and bringing it over to the bed, setting it down by Charles’ feet. He doesn’t come any closer, no doubt wary of cameras in the room though he does lean forward slightly and says in a low voice, “I can’t say much but the two of them are okay for now. There are…things happening. You’ve just got to be patient.”

Charles watches him go without another word, waiting until the door shuts with a click before sliding gingerly out of bed. As suspected, the door is locked from the outside and he has to stifle the urge to kick it with his bare feet, his body protesting every movement he makes with a twinge or a dull ache.

Rubbing his face with a sigh he turns to make his way to the bathroom, determined to wash away any lingering trace of alpha stench from his skin and mentally preparing himself for whatever happens next.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erik and Raven have to hide when Shaw drops by Hank's place unannounced.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Chapter Warning** : descriptions of non-con
> 
> Here have 1700 words of Shaw basically torturing poor Erik and Raven (and Hank). He is a bad bad man. And I am a bad bad author. Be warned. Again.

“Quick. You’ve got to hide.”

Erik is sitting at the kitchen table with Raven, the two poring over maps of Shaw’s compound and the surrounding island when Hank rushes in, face ashen.

“What’s wrong? What’s going on?” Raven asks as Hank starts grabbing the papers off the table, stuffing them unceremoniously into the cupboards under the sink. He takes their empty coffee mugs and dumps them in the dishwasher, before taking Raven’s hand and tugging her out of the kitchen and down the hall.

“I just got a call from Sean. Shaw’s on his way here for a surprise visit,” Hank answers, herding them into the guest bedroom and flinging the doors open to the walk-in closet. “You can hide in the attic; this is the only way up and there’s enough space for both of you. Just don’t make any noise. And do not come down, no matter what you hear.”

Erik shakes his head, arms crossed and posture tense. “We’re not going to _hide_. I’m going to kill that son of a bitch with my bare hands.”

“No,” Hank hisses, the ferocity of his retort surprising Erik and Raven both. “He’ll be armed and I can guarantee he won’t be alone. If he finds you here he’ll kill you _and_ he’ll kill me too. Then who’s going to find your brother and get us all off this fucking island?” 

He knows that Hank is right, even as every fiber of his being wants to balk at the idea of hiding instead of confronting Sebastian Shaw. Instead of answering he watches quietly as Hank slides a large suitcase out of the back corner of the closet to make room under the secret panel. A flashlight is shoved into his hands and then he’s being boosted up into the pitch dark, Raven following closely at his heels.

“Stay put until I come for you,” Hank warns, speaking urgently now as Erik starts moving the panel back into place. They can see his face clearly as he looks up, his lips pressed in a grim line. “I think he suspects…look if something happens to me, and you get away, try to find Sean at the compound. He works in the residences. He’ll help.”

“What do you mean if something happens--”

Raven’s words are cut off by the panel sliding in place, followed by the sound of the suitcase moving and then the closet door slamming shut. They can hear Hank’s footsteps receding as he runs from the bedroom, leaving them alone to stew in the deafening silence.

There’s no furniture in the attic; nothing but shingles and dust that Erik can make out with his small flashlight. They eventually find a sleeping bag tucked away in the corner farthest from the exit, which Raven promptly turns into a makeshift seat, dragging it quietly to the center where the ceiling is at the highest point. Erik joins her on the ground reluctantly, though he does pull her closer when she leans against him, clinging to his arm with a vicelike grip.

Nine minutes. 

Ten minutes. 

Eleven minutes go by before they hear footsteps again, this time directly below them. Erik is fairly certain they’re situated above the living room and wonders if he’ll be able to hear the conversation happening below.

His question is answered a moment later, when Shaw’s voice, muffled but still clearly discernable, floats up through the ceiling.

“…concerned for your safety Hank. Azazel and I are just here to check up on our favorite young scientist.”

If Erik didn’t know any better, he might have actually believed Shaw’s words, delivered with such charming sincerity. But it only makes him feel furiously protective of Hank, who has to deal with Shaw’s games on his own while he and Raven are forced to hide.

“I appreciate it Mr. Shaw. As you can see I’m perfectly fine.”

There are more footsteps and then, “Have you seen anything, Hank? Any sign of our two fugitives running loose on the island?”

“No sir,” Hank answers immediately and Shaw laughs, his knowing chuckle sending an unwilling shiver down Erik’s spine. Beside him, Raven’s whole body tenses.

“I see,” Shaw says, tone mild and amused. “Then tell me Hank. Why does your charming little house stink of alpha? When you live here all by yourself?”

The silence is heavy, unspoken threat hanging in the air as Raven’s fingers dig painfully into Erik’s arm. He squeezes her hand and readies himself; he needs to get down there fast and distract Shaw long enough for Raven (and Hank) to escape.

But his makeshift planning is interrupted by Hank’s voice, only slightly shaky in reply, “Logan was here yesterday. With me.”

More silence, and then another voice cuts in with a laugh, the one Erik doesn’t recognize though it obviously belongs to Shaw’s man ‘Azazel’. “Ah. Well now it makes sense Sebastian. No wonder Logan didn’t come back for seconds.” 

“Hmmm, yes of course,” Sebastian says agreeably and Erik lets out the breath he didn’t realize he was holding. “And here I thought Logan had eyes only for our darling Jean.”

“Just leaves more for us,” Azazel answers and Erik doesn’t know why but his gut twists violently at the leer behind the off-handed comment. 

Shaw laughs – and oh how Erik burns to hear it, so smug and self-satisfied. He wants so desperately to wring the man’s neck with his bare hands; to stab him in the gut and watch him bleed out all over the floor.

“You missed a great party last night, Hank. We had such a good time with our new guest. Didn’t we Azazel?”

“Oh yes. Many, _many_ good times,” Azazel snickers.

“I was working in the lab.”

“Commendable,” Shaw says, “always such a hard worker, Hank. But you should have come anyway, if only to see the entertainment.”

They must be expecting Hank to play along, because Azazel prompts him, after a few beats of silence. “Don’t you want to know what you missed?”

“Y…yes.”

“Charles,” Shaw crows, and Erik can practically see the self-satisfied look on his face. “Our sweet, beautiful Charles, so eager. So obliging.”

“Janos certainly enjoyed himself. He’s developed quite an appreciation for Charles’ mouth.”

“Victor has too I’m sure.”

“And Logan! Did you see how hard Logan fucked him? How he moaned and begged for it--”

The hatred is blinding, the words fading out in a sheet of white. Erik loses himself momentarily to insensate rage, returning to find Raven in his lap, her arms wrapped tightly around him. 

“Don’t do it,” she hisses in his ear, her grip unshakeable as he tries to dislodge her. “He’s baiting us. Trying to lure us out. We can’t—” and she stops, choking back tears that Erik can feel trailing against his own skin. “Charles wouldn’t want this. Charles needs us to _live_.”

Somehow it’s enough, the image she paints of Charles crystallizing in his mind. Telling Erik to be _smart_ and not to let his anger get the better of him. To protect his sister and get back to him in one piece. 

Raven doesn’t shift from Erik’s lap, her arms immoveable even as he relaxes in her hold. They sit, unable to escape, unable to block out the voices below, a reluctant audience to Shaw’s gleeful description of the night before; how he moved Charles from the party to his own rooms, continuing his depravity with Azazel’s help.

They are forced to listen, unwilling images springing into their minds of Charles laid across the bed, Shaw between his thighs as Azazel fucks his throat raw. Azazel sliding his cock alongside Shaw’s, the two men thrusting in and out to the rhythm of Charles’ pleas for more. Of Charles coming inside an omega named Angel, her hips rocking up and down as Shaw fucks him over and over with a dildo.

Finally it ends, just as Erik’s fraying temper comes perilously close to breaking. He can feel Raven’s nails digging into his skin, leaving grooves deep enough to draw blood. 

“—should be going. I’m so glad we had this little visit, Hank.”

There’s shuffling and then footsteps and _finally_ , it’s almost over and they can get back to--

“Oh and Hank,” Shaw calls out, rather loudly. “If you _do_ happen to stumble across Mr. Lehnsherr and Ms. Xavier, would you kindly deliver a message for me?”

“Of course, sir,” is Hank’s answer and Erik is impressed at how calm the man sounds in the face of Shaw’s veiled accusation.

“Tell them I’m coming for them in 24 hours,” Shaw says, all charm and playfulness disappearing completely from his voice. “Tell them that for Charles’ sake I’m willing to give them a head start. And that the next time I see them, I won’t be quite so lenient.”

There’s no answer from Hank – not that Erik really expected one – the silence large and looming as Shaw and Azazel’s footsteps recede. They stay huddled together as the minutes tick slowly by, neither of them talking, though Raven does run her thumb gently across his wet cheek.

It’s another ten minutes before Hank finally returns, thumping the panel twice before Erik moves to help him. Once they exit the attic Raven falls onto the bed, pulling her legs up and wrapping her arms around her knees, hiding her face from view. Hank looks no better, his face white as a sheet and his hands trembling though he does an admirable job hiding his fear. 

“We have to leave,” Erik says, and Hank is already nodding along in agreement. “Shaw knew we were here or at least he strongly suspects that Hank is helping us. Hiding here isn’t an option anymore.”

Raven looks between them both, eyes tired and red. “Where can we go? No one else will help us and this island isn’t all that big. We have no place to hide.”

“I know someone who can help you,” Hank says, “someone who knows this island and places you can go to hide. He can probably get you some weapons too to defend yourself, though that’s not a guarantee.”

“Okay who is it?”

Hank hesitates, then straightens his shoulders and looks Erik right in the eye. 

“Logan.”


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nathaniel Essex has a plan, one that apparently involves Charles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a bit short but I wanted to cut it off at a natural break in the story. We'll get to Nathaniel's meeting with Charles next (and hopefully soon)!
> 
> I don't know why it's taking me so long to move the plot forward lol! I swear there's going to be more story than just 'everybody creeps on Charles'. We'll get there I promise LOL!
> 
>  **Warnings:** You know the drill. Descriptions of a foursome and Essex being super creepy per usual.

Nathaniel spends much of the day after Shaw’s party in his own rooms, waiting for the right time to approach Charles with his offer. The omega has slept through much of the morning, waking briefly for a late breakfast before succumbing once again to his exhaustion from spending a grueling five days in heat.

He goes through the footage from the party last night, watching the reactions of the various alphas in the room. There is much to be learned about the impact of Xavier on Shaw and his men, and Nathaniel is keen to exploit any weaknesses he might uncover.

Victor’s interest in Charles is predictable; he’s a bully that covets the newest toy in the toy box. Nathaniel doubts that Shaw will let him close to Charles again, as it gains him nothing from a man who already follows him without question.

Janos’ interest is fleeting at best; after sampling Charles’ mouth he had spent the rest of the evening in Angel’s company, content to remain by the omega’s side.  He will keep busy enough with Shaw’s old favorite, now that the man’s attention is focused almost exclusively on someone new.

Azazel is a more difficult man to read. Unlike Logan and Janos he has never formed an attachment with any of the omegas, choosing to indulge himself with the many options available to him as Shaw’s trusted right hand. He’s not sure yet if Azazel will treat Charles like the others; only time will tell if his ardor for the omega is a mere passing fancy.

When he comes across the footage of Logan arguing with Shaw, he pauses, chuckling at Shaw’s unique brand of congenial blackmail. Though he has no love for the man, Nathaniel can applaud Shaw’s rather brilliant assessment and manipulation of Logan, forcing him to take what he clearly wants, using guilt and temptation both to keep him in line. It’s a battle that Shaw seems to be winning so far, though Nathaniel is quite certain that Logan is primed to push back.

He stands to grab himself another drink from the minibar, before returning to the bed and settling back against the pillows. Not much else happens at the party, especially after Shaw finishes fucking Charles for the second time. Picking up the remote he clicks on the next feed in the queue, and watches as Azazel carries Charles into one of the empty bedrooms, with Shaw and Angel following close behind.

Watching this unfold live last night had been a thrill; he knows that a second viewing will be just as invigorating. Nathaniel could have stayed for the party and enjoyed the other omegas, but wisely chose to make himself scarce. It’s never a good idea to draw Shaw’s attention for long, a habit that’s kept him secure in the enviable position as Head of Research for the past five years.

Plus, Nathaniel’s interest rests solely on Xavier at the moment, and Shaw’s not about to share him with a beta.

He turns the volume up, and Angel’s breathless moans immediately flood the room. She rocks slowly, taking her time, her body undulating up and down Xavier’s cock as Azazel fucks his open mouth. Shaw is content to watch for now, taking slow sips of his whiskey as Charles writhes beautifully on the bed, surrendering to the last vestiges of his heat.

Angel shudders when she comes, her thighs clenching tight as she drives herself down on Xavier, dragging a muffled moan from his lips. The ensuing vibration makes Azazel groan too, his hands gripping Charles’ hair as the alpha follows, unloading his own release down the omega’s throat. After, he wanders off to refill his glass, while Angel folds herself on top of Charles, pressing his lips open with a deep and sensuous kiss, sharing the taste of Azazel’s spend as she rubs her breasts all over Xavier’s sweat slick body. Sliding down further she takes his cock in her mouth with a pleasured moan, swallowing deep as Shaw watches with a delighted smile.

Nathaniel checks the time, and flips over to the camera monitoring Charles’ room. The omega is laying on top of the covers and moaning softly in his sleep, his body curled defensively into a ball.  By his estimation – and the amount of sedative he added to Charles’ food – the omega should be waking up in the next 10 to 15 minutes. He decides to finish his drink and get himself ready, before heading over for a visit.

When he comes out of the bathroom, wearing cologne and a new dress shirt, the camera has flipped back to the video from the night before. Angel is back on top of Charles again, having coaxed another erection from him with her talented hands and pretty mouth. Shaw is now perched behind her between Charles’ legs, spreading him wide and fucking him with a dildo. And Azazel is pressing wet kisses on those bruised lips, fingertips light and teasing on the omega’s nipples.

He shudders, as his eyes hone in on the large silicone dildo sliding in and out. Only hours ago it was _Nathaniel’s_ cock inside Xavier, those tight muscles squeezing him as he pumped his hips. The memory is still fresh and visceral; the way Charles moaned wantonly when Nathaniel pushed himself deeper. The way he threw his head back and sighed when the beta spurted inside of him, adding his own seed to the mix.

Reaching for the remote he quickly turns off the T.V., shaking his head with a pleased chuckle. There will be lots of time for watching, after their talk. After he’s convinced Charles that they should work together. It’s too bad that he won’t get a chance to fuck Charles again, not anytime soon; not with the omega out of heat and Shaw watching him so closely.

But then again, an opportunity can present itself when you least expect it. And Nathaniel Essex has always been a very patient man.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dreams mix with memories, old and new. And Nathaniel has a proposition for Charles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy cow, 2 chapters in two days! I can hardly believe it :D
> 
>  **Warnings:** DP, and references to noncon.

_“I love you.”_

_Erik smiles and whispers the words against his lips, his hands sliding along Charles’ flank until they rest on his buttocks. They trade soft, slow kisses as Charles rides him, enjoying the feel of Erik’s cock stretching him wide and open._

_“You’re gorgeous,” Erik praises, his hands gripping Charles tight as he bucks his hips. Then more hands, rough and firm, slip down to trace his hole, a finger slipping in alongside Erik as Charles gasps._

_“I’ve got you, pet,” a voice says, and more fingers are added, rocking in time to Erik’s thrusts. “You can take us both can’t you? You want both of us to fuck you, don’t you Charles?”_

_He moans; it feels so good, Erik’s kisses and the way he’s being fucked and filled. “Yes. Please. Oh god, yes.”_

_Somebody – not Erik – chuckles, as another cock starts pushing inside of him, so thick and hard. Charles keens as it keeps going and going and going; he feels full to bursting, but somehow it’s a perfect fit._

_They fuck him, a body below and a body above, pinning him as they move. Hands on his shoulders and hands on his hips, grinding him down as they push and pull. Charles loves it - can’t get enough of their hands, their lips, their cocks rocking inside of him. He wants it all; wants to be taken and used and worshipped and loved._

_“I like this one, Sebastian,” a voice says from above, grunting as he fucks Charles even harder, making him whine. “He’s done this before.”_

_A voice below him agrees with a satisfied hum. “I think you’re right. I think Charles has been fucked like this before.” The hands on his hips tighten, and his mouth is taken in a long possessive kiss. “I think he’s used to taking more than one cock. I think he likes being used. I think someone taught him well.”_

_“Yes,” Charles agrees, and the others laugh. “I’ll be good. I promise.” He does, he wants to be so good for them. He can do this. He’s been good before._

_They take their time fucking him, thrusting leisurely as Charles begs them for more, teasing with long strokes and short jabs that steal his breath away. They drive into him with wild, glorious abandon, and fuck him until he comes with a ragged moan. They fuck him and fuck him and fuck him some more, until there’s nothing but unbridled pleasure, intense and overwhelming._

_There is sheer contentment when they come inside of him, bursts of warmth following one after the other. But the feeling of bliss doesn’t last, disappearing as soon as they both pull out, semen spilling hot and messy down his thighs. “Don’t leave me,” Charles begs, feeling hollow and desperate as he wraps his arms around the body beneath him. “I don’t want to be alone.”_

_“Don’t worry my pet,” the voice answers with glee. “I’m never letting you go.”_

_\----_

Someone is knocking on the door.

Charles jolts awake from the sound, his head achy and groggy with sleep. Somehow, he feels more tired _now_ than he did when he woke up this morning, and he doesn’t know what to make of it.

The knocking persists, and Charles debates whether or not he should answer. He doesn’t think it’s Shaw, since the bastard would just walk right in, and wonders if Sean has returned to bring him another meal. Looking around quickly he still finds nothing he can use as a makeshift weapon, though he certainly doesn’t need one to put up a good fight.

“Who is it?” He scrambles off the bed and puts the couch between himself and the door. “What do you want?”

“It’s Nathaniel Essex, Charles. May I come in?”

“Fuck off,” he snarls, even as the door opens and in walks the doctor. “Get out! Stay away from me!”

Essex puts his hands up in the air, an affable grin on his face as he waits by the door. “I’m just here to talk, Charles. Nothing else, I swear.”

Charles laughs, bitter and incredulous. “I’ve got nothing to say to you. Leave.”

“Are you sure you want me to leave?” Essex asks, and Charles can’t help but gape at him. “Don’t you want news about Mr. Lehnsherr? And your sister?”

He rolls his eyes and snorts. “You think I’m going to believe a word that comes out of your mouth? You’re no better than Shaw. Now get the fuck out.”

His disgust appears to have no effect at all on Essex; the man closes the door behind him and crosses the room with a few long strides. He pulls out two bottled waters from the mini-fridge and tosses one onto the couch for Charles, before uncapping the other and taking a drink. “I think you’re a man with very few options Mr. Xavier. Whether you believe me or not makes no difference. And it doesn’t change the situation you’re in, does it?”

Charles would haul off and punch his smug face in a second, if he didn’t think it would bring Shaw or any number of unwanted people barging into his room. He tenses when Essex wanders a little closer, settling into the single armchair with a pleased smile.

“It doesn’t matter. You helped Shaw rape me. You’re as bad as everyone else in this fucking place. Now get out, or I’m going to throw you out.”

Essex continues on blithely, as if Charles hadn’t just threatened him bodily harm. “Your sister and Mr. Lehnsherr are still alive, thanks to my lead researcher Hank McCoy. They’ve been hiding at his cottage the past few days, though I imagine after Sebastian’s visit today they’ll have to leave.”

He hates himself a little for taking the bait, but he’s desperate for any news – real or imagined - about Erik and Raven. “Did Shaw…did they get away?”

“It would be more accurate to say that Shaw let them go,” Essex answers, looking rather pleased at Charles’ flabbergasted expression. “He’s known all along where they were hiding. Hank tends to have a soft spot for strays, but it’s a harmless enough quirk that Shaw indulges his antics. And you’ve been keeping Sebastian suitably occupied during your heat, so I think he’s giving them a head start, to show his…appreciation, as it were.”

Charles sneers. “So he hasn’t killed my sister and Erik yet because he’s been too busy raping me? And he’s what? Showing me _kindness_ now? Letting them go so he can hunt them down later like wild animals? You’re all fucking insane!”

“Tsk, tsk, Charles,” Essex chides. “No need to lump me in with Shaw. I’m not the one trying to kill Ms. Xavier and Mr. Lehnsherr. I’m just a doctor. My job is to take care of your wellbeing.”

“Is that what you call it? Stripping me and prepping me and getting me ready for Shaw’s bed? You _helped_ him! You are every bit as responsible as he is for what he’s done to me.”

The doctor shrugs and continues, “We all do what we must to survive here. He would have taken you regardless of my involvement. I did what I could to make things easier for you--”

“Well aren’t you a fucking saint?”

“---and whether you like it or not you need my help.”

“I don’t need anything from you.”

For the first time since his arrival, Essex loses the benign smile, his eyes flashing as he taunts, “You need my birth control though, don’t you, Charles? How many times has Shaw fucked you since you’ve been here, hm? How many different _alphas_ have fucked you during your heat? I think you should be very grateful for my help, Charles. Being pregnant would make it very difficult to plan an escape.”

He winces, turning away from Essex to take a deep, shuddering breath. The thought of having a _child_ with Shaw is too awful to contemplate. “Why are you really here, Doctor? What do you want from me?”

When Charles turns around, Essex is leaning forward in his chair, his eyes sharp and expression serious. “I’m here to offer my help, to get you and your friends off this island.”

Charles shakes his head, disbelief coloring his tone. “Is that so? And what is it that you want in return?”

“Simple. I want what Shaw has. I want his company. I want his omegas. I want this island. And with your help, I can make it happen.”

He can’t rightly tell if Essex is joking, because the idea is too preposterous for Charles to process. “What are you suggesting, that we kill him? How would we get away with that, with all of his men around? And what makes you think I won’t tell him what you just told me?”

Essex shrugs. “You could, but why would he believe you? He’s way too arrogant to believe that someone would dare go against him. And I’d be willing to bet that no matter how much you hate me, it’s not nearly as much as you hate Sebastian Shaw.”

“And if you’re right? What are you proposing?”

“I have plans in motion, which I will share with you when the time is right. For now, I need you to provide a distraction.”

“I doubt he’s going to stop raping me, if that’s what you mean,” he spits.

“Believe it or not, what Shaw wants is your cooperation. The fact that you’re unwilling, you’re right, that obviously doesn’t stop him. But what he _really_ wants, is to win you over, Charles. He wants you to _want_ to be here. He wants to _win_.”

Charles shakes his head, his hands trembling with rage. “Are you suggesting that I…what? Stop fighting him? Willingly go to bed with him? Let him fuck me and pretend to like it?”

Essex frowns, looking for all the world like a teacher chastising his wayward student. “The only leverage you have here, Charles, is Shaw’s infatuation with you. You remind him of his late husband, who he loved very much. Seduce him. Win him over, and he won’t even realize you’re the one calling the shots.”

“And if I don’t?”

“Then I’ll still get what I want, though it’ll take me longer to do it,” Essex answers. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small bottle of pills, setting them down on the coffee table. With a groan he pushes out of his chair, and heads towards the door. “You on the other hand, will be stuck here with no way out. And Shaw _will_ kill your sister and Lehnsherr, that I have no doubt.” He smiles at Charles, giving a quick nod towards the pills. “Think about it. And don’t forget to take the birth control.”

\---

Charles doesn’t move from his spot for a long time after the doctor leaves, Essex’s words rolling around and around in his head. He knows better than to trust the beta; that his reasons for helping Charles are hardly altruistic. And he has no guarantee that Essex will actually help them get off the island, even if they do get rid of Shaw. In all likelihood, the man would go back on his word and keep them there, to avoid any unnecessary entanglements with law enforcement.

No, Nathaniel Essex is not to be trusted.

But Charles is running out of time. And options.

He reaches for the bottle on the coffee table, and takes the pills.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erik meets Logan. And Charles makes a decision about Essex and Shaw.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Warnings for this chapter:** Shaw, non-con oral, bondage.

Erik wants to hit him again.

And he _would_ , tear the bastard limb from limb if not for Raven’s warning glare and Hank’s worried expression, as Logan gets up off the ground and rubs his jaw.

“I deserved that.”

He sneers, even if the words are said quietly, perhaps even sincerely. “Do you think?”

The man looks up and meets his eyes, and then Raven’s, expression a mix of determination and steel. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”

“Fuck your apologies,” Erik spits, “and it’s not _us_ you should be apologizing to, it’s Charles.”

“And I’ll apologize to _him_ when I see him again. But right now, we’ve got to get you both equipped and then out of here before Shaw comes back.”

Logan turns away from him, pulling Hank and Raven to look over the supplies he brought from the compound – two hunting knives, a handgun, some ammo and two water bottles. Not nearly enough to survive out there, not when Shaw has all manner of weapons in his arsenal and transportation too.

The others are poring over a map now spread on the kitchen table, with Logan pointing out hidden caches of food he’s stashed all over the island. He doesn’t know what to feel about the man’s involvement in their escape, doesn’t know why they should trust him at all considering what he did to Charles.

“…don’t engage him,” Logan is saying to Raven, when Erik’s attention turns back to the conversation going on in front of him. “Stay out of sight and stay _alive_. We need more time to get us all off this fucking island so don’t do anything stupid. Like trying to rescue your brother on your own.”

Erik snarls at the mention of Charles, “You think we’re just going to sit around and wait? And let you and Shaw and the others…we’re going to find him and get him out!”

“Erik—” Raven steps closer, though he shakes off her hand when she reaches to grasp his arm. He ignores the pleading look she sends him and gets right into Logan’s face. The man doesn’t flinch, standing his ground as Erik clenches his fists.

“You can’t get him out,” Hank says, his quiet voice cutting through the mounting tension. “You won’t even be able to get close to the compound without getting shot, let alone into the residences. He’s locked up right now, and probably will be for the foreseeable future, and he’ll be safer there than either of you out here.”

“You call what they’re doing to him safe? Are you out of your mind Hank?”

Logan shifts, putting his body in front of Hank to shield him from Erik’s fury. “He won’t get shot. No one will beat him or hurt him. He’ll be alive when you _do_ manage to get him out. And you will. We just need more time.”  


“Please Erik, I want to rescue Charles too, more than anything,” Raven interjects, “but we can’t help him if we’re dead. And I trust Hank. He says he’s working on a plan. We’ve got to give them time.”

He grits his teeth. “How long.”

“Five days,” Logan answers, “five days to get the codes for the tracking devices. That’s when the supply plane lands; we’re going to steal it.”

“How many people can the plane hold?” Raven asks.

“About ten max; enough to get us, your brother, Sean, Jean and Alex out of here at least. We can come back for the others when we reach the mainland and get help.”

It’s not much of a plan, but it’s enough to give Erik a faint ray of hope that there’s an end to this nightmare. He finds himself calming just a little, even if he’s still wary of Logan’s loyalties and his intentions. “Why are you helping us?” he demands. “What’s your stake in all this?”

“Listen bub,” Logan says, and there’s tension in his voice as he tries to rein in his temper. “I don’t owe you my fucking life story. But I’ll tell you this. What I did to Charles – that was shitty and wrong, I know that. But I love Jean and I promised to keep her safe and get her out. So I do what I have to do to survive in his hellhole. I don’t need your approval and I sure as hell don’t need your understanding. I’m in it for me and for her, that’s it. You’re just along for the ride.”

Surprisingly, Logan’s gruff frankness does much to ease Erik’s misgivings. He may never like Logan – barely tolerate him if that – but he understands the will to live and the need to protect his loved ones. Whatever Charles decides to do about Logan when this is all over…well he’ll leave it to Charles to decide.

“Fine,” he nods, and walks over to the map. “Show me the island.”

 

xxx

 

His reprieve from Shaw lasts only one day; after Essex’s departure he’d been left alone in his room to ostensibly rest and recuperate, with only Sean’s occasional delivery of meals as interruptions. He spends all of his free time searching for a possible escape route – and finding none – racking his brain for some way out of his predicament.

Charles comes back to Essex’s words time and again, finding himself more and more frustrated at his inability to come up with a better alternative. He does _not_ want to ally himself with Essex; isn’t stupid enough to trust the man’s intentions, but he is cut off from the outside and completely at Shaw’s mercy. As loath as he is to even be in the same room as Sebastian Shaw – let alone welcoming the man into his bed – playing along might be his only choice.

Even if the choice makes him physically ill.

He spends much of night going back and forth in his mind, weighing his need to act against his aversion to Shaw. If it was just Charles in this situation he might hold out indefinitely, refusing to give Shaw even an inch of ground. But Erik and his sister are out there, in physical danger, and every moment Charles doesn’t act is another chance for Shaw to murder the two people he loves most in this world. A thought he can’t bear to consider for long.

When he wakes in the morning, Sean is there, delivering another decadent breakfast with enough food for four people. Charles is still ravenous and devours some of everything, popping the birth control pills into his mouth as he downs a tall glass of mimosa. By the time breakfast is finished he’s made up his mind; he’ll talk to Essex again and agree to play his game.

If _he_ makes the choice to do this, Charles tells himself, the sex will be easier to take.

He knows this. He’s done it before.

 

\---

 

If Charles thought that making a decision would change things immediately, he was wrong.

When Shaw shows up after breakfast to greet him, he is not interested in conversation. He ignores Charles’ angry outbursts and marches him at gunpoint to his office where Azazel is already waiting. There he is shoved over the giant oak desk, his arms spread and tied down and his bottom half bared as Azazel strips him of his pants and underwear. He winces as Azazel works him open methodically, two fingers covered in lube penetrating him as Shaw watches, his pants already tenting at Charles’ humiliation. After what feels like an age, the fingers are replaced by a now familiar dildo, the hard press of it against his prostate dragging a reluctant moan from his lips.

He tries to bite when Azazel fits him with a ring gag – to no avail – and glares when the man pinches his ass playfully before leaving the room. Struggling does nothing to loosen his bonds and only seems to amuse Shaw so he stops, closing his eyes as he waits to be violated.

He doesn’t have to wait long.

A hand trails across his shoulder blades, before gliding down his spine and under his shirt, shifting the material to expose all of Charles’ buttocks. Shaw kneads the soft flesh with his fingers, tracing the edge of the dildo and the rim of Charles’ entrance in near silence. He can feel Shaw’s eyes raking over every inch of him, hot and possessive as large hands cup his cheeks and spread him wide.

“Beautiful,” Shaw murmurs, and then the dildo is moving, pushing in deep and sliding back out, the sound of slick and lube overly loud in the quiet room. Shaw fucks him slowly, working him loose, and Charles can barely keep himself from groaning and rocking back for more.

By the time it stops, his cock is stiff and his breathing labored, and Charles wishes that Shaw would just get on with it and then let him go. The respite he gets is short-lived; Shaw circles in front of him and unzips his pants, taking his cock out and brushing the leaking tip against Charles’ cheek.

“So perfect,” Shaw sighs, and slides through the gag into his open mouth. Charles hates that he’s already accustomed to the taste of him; hates the texture and the weight of Shaw’s shaft on his tongue. “Exquisite, Charles. Your mouth is made for this. Made for me.”

Shaw sets a leisurely pace, his hands carding gently through Charles’ hair as he rocks his hips. He seems wholly uninterested in chasing his own release, content to use Charles for his unending pleasure.

The phone rings, and Shaw stops, though he doesn’t pull himself out of Charles’ mouth. There’s a soft click when he sets the phone on speaker, and then a woman’s voice fills the room.

“Hello Sebastian.”

“Emma! Always nice to hear from you, sweetheart.”

Instead of moving away as expected, Shaw just starts thrusting his hips again, fucking Charles’ mouth as he continues his conversation. Charles’ face heats from embarrassment; he can only hope that the bastard doesn’t broadcast his presence to the woman on the other end of the line.

“…Board meeting Sebastian. You have responsibilities to the company, beyond holing up on your island paradise with your little harem.”

“I don’t need to waste my time answering inane questions they can read from a report. I trust you to handle things, my dear. You are the company’s President after all.”

Inexplicably, Shaw picks up the pace, dragging Charles’ attention from the conversation back to the hard flesh between his lips. He is too distracted by the hands tightening in his hair; too focused on trying to breathe through his nose.

“…lecture me. Just do your job and let me do mine.”

“Fine. Goodbye, Sebastian.”

“Emma.”

Once the line disconnects and the room is silent once more, Shaw reaches to tenderly cup his cheek. “I’m sorry for the interruption, pet. I know just how to make it up to you.”

Shaw has barely finished his sentence before he grabs Charles by the back of the head and slams his cock down his throat. He sets a relentless pace now, ramming his shaft in and out without any thought to Charles’ discomfort, or his ability to breathe. He just keeps fucking him, over and over again, heedless to the way Charles is struggling against his bonds; keeps fucking him when someone knocks and the door opens, before spurting hot and sticky down Charles’ throat with a satisfied grunt.

He’s too busy choking on Shaw’s spend to hear the words exchanged above him; doesn’t realize there’s someone else in the room until his gag is removed and he stops wheezing and coughing. He hears a zipper, and then a glass being filled, and then a voice he hasn’t heard in over ten years.

“Fancy seeing you here, little brother.”  


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charles is reunited with his stepbrother Cain. And Essex gets his wish.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Warnings for this chapter:** Noncon, consensual underage (flashbacks), violence/child abuse (flashback), verbal humiliation, humilation, bondage, rimming, DP.
> 
>  **Notes:** So many warnings - please read at your own risk! Child abuse is between Kurt and Cain and the consensual underage is between Kurt and Charles. Also, I've been asked to assure readers that bloody, Tarantino levels of retribution WILL happen. It will. Eventually. I swear.

His stepbrother’s voice is still unmistakeable after all these years; the stuff of childhood nightmares.

“Cain.”

_“Let Charles go now!”_

_He screams when Cain shoves him hard onto the ground, his broken arm in the sling catching against the edge of the table as he goes down. Kurt rounds the corner just as Cain tries to run away, and hauls him by the back of the neck, slamming him hard against the wall._

_“I thought I told you to leave him alone!”_

_Cain struggles against his father’s hold, snarling and kicking as Kurt backhands him twice across the face. He stops when Kurt grabs him by the throat and shoves him again, the expression on his face morphing from rage to sneering disdain._

_“What? It’s not my fault he’s such a wimp!” Cain yells, hands scrabbling at his neck to try and loosen Kurt’s hold. “Why are you always on his side? He’s not even your kid,_ I _am!”_

_“You are, and that’s how I know you started this altercation, just like you start everything else! You should know better than to pick on him! You’re four years older and an alpha twice his size! I taught you better than that! You’re a bloody disgrace to this family!”_

_The hurt that flashes across Cain’s face is fleeting, but even Charles can see it clearly from where he lays, curled on the hardwood floor. When Kurt lets go, Cain immediately pushes away and turns to leave, but not before his eyes land on Charles, dark and mocking._

_"You think I don’t know what you let him do, Charlie? To get him on your side?” Cain taunts, the words making his blood burn ice-cold as they course through his veins. “So pretty, and weak. And only good for one thing.”_

“It’s been a long time, hasn’t it Charlie? And look! You’re just as I remember you, bent naked over a table waiting to be fucked.”

From his prone position on the desk he can’t see Cain or Shaw; can only hear the sounds of bottle and glass as drinks are poured and accepted. He tries not to flinch every time he senses movement behind him, his skin tingling from the minute shifts in the air. It was bad enough being exposed and vulnerable with just Shaw in the room; it has never ended well for Charles to be anything but on his guard around Cain.

He tugs uselessly at his restraints, biting his tongue to hold back a frustrated scream. “And you’re just where I expected you to end up, a hired thug working for a megalomaniac.”

The reprisal doesn’t come, neither physically as he’s used to nor verbally from his stepbrother. It’s Shaw that addresses the insult, a hand patting his bare ass condescendingly as Cain laughs. “Now Charles, there’s no need to be rude. I thought you’d be happy being reunited with family.”

“He’s not my family.”

A large calloused hand grabs him by the chin, tilting his head up to meet Cain’s narrowed eyes. His stepbrother is even larger now and more menacing, all corded muscle and brute force. “No, I can’t say we were ever particularly close, were we Charlie? Pity. But then again, you had Kurt’s attention all to yourself, didn’t you? You didn’t need anyone else, when you had my father’s… _love_.”

He ignores the dig and the knowing smirk, pushing down memories of Kurt’s arms around him, holding him close. Of his lips peppering kisses all over Charles’ skin and gentle hands on his hips…

“If Kurt despised you it had nothing to do with me. You alienated him all by yourself.”

That same look of rage and violence flashes across Cain’s face, the one Charles remembers so vividly from their childhood. But he refuses to be cowed, glaring with as much defiance and disdain as he can muster as he braces himself for the expected blow.

“Cain.” Shaw’s voice cuts through the racketing tension, shaking his stepbrother out of his murderous haze with a sharp command. “Business first. Tell me about your trip to London.”

He lets go and turns away, his hard grip leaving a stinging imprint against Charles’ jaw. Out of the corner of his eye he can see the two men settling onto the leather couch with their drinks, and he can only breathe a soft sigh of relief at being temporarily ignored.

“Did you learn anything useful?” Shaw asks, his tone focused and no-nonsense. “Is she planning something I should know about?”

Cain snorts, taking a loud and obnoxious slurp from his glass before answering, “The Ice Queen is too busy running your little empire to make trouble. I didn’t find anything to substantiate the rumors. You can trust her to do her job, for now.”

“Good.”

Their conversation continues, with an occasional replenishment of their drinks from the bar, Charles’ presence in the room being largely ignored. But Charles can feel Cain’s heavy gaze returning to him time and again, can imagine what a temptingly easy target he makes, with his naked ass in the air and bound securely to Shaw’s desk. He closes his eyes, willing himself to calm and not to throw up his lavish breakfast all over the fancy wood flooring.

Charles freezes when he hears them move, the sound of bodies shifting off the couch and slipping into the space directly behind him. His whole body goes rigid with humiliation at his own helplessness; the way he’s laid bare and exposed for their mockery and abuse.

“Do you want a taste?” Shaw offers, and Charles clenches instinctively around the dildo, stifling a groan, prompting a pleased chuckle from the two men. He tries to jerk away when hands curl around his hips, only for the hands to grip him even tighter, holding him in place.

“Now Charlie,” Cain says, scornful and smug. “You’ve done this enough for dear old Dad. Don’t you think I deserve a turn too?”

“Don’t do this Cain,” he pleads, too horrified at the thought of his stepbrother touching him, than to care about his injured pride. “Please, you can’t…we’re…”

“Nothing to each other, as you’ve said,” Cain answers, a little breathless and with none of the venom of his earlier taunts. Large, calloused hands grip his ass cheeks and ply them apart, kneading his flesh hard enough to bruise. “You don’t know how long I’ve waited for this, Charlie. Just like this, just for me.”

“Cain, no--”

He cries out when the dildo is yanked out without warning, to be replaced immediately by a broad tongue delving deep and far too intimate. Charles can’t buck his hips, pinned as he is by Cain’s strength and his prone position on the desk. Can do nothing as his stepbrother pries him open and licks his hole with relish, groaning with undisguised pleasure at every sound he drags from Charles’ unwilling lips.

“I used to watch you two,” Cain says between swipes of his tongue around Charles’ rim, and stinging bites on his buttocks. “When Kurt used to bend you over his desk and eat you out, I used to imagine it was me, making you moan like that. I wondered how you tasted…it must have been good, I thought, the way my father kept coming back for more.”

The words are almost muffled, as Cain continues to probe him with his tongue between musings, working him loose with his fingers. For a bizarre moment Charles imagines his mother, bored and remote at the dinner table, admonishing Cain for speaking with his mouth full and has to bite back a hysterical sob.

“Feels good yeah?” Cain asks, the rumbling laugh sending vibrations from Charles’ hole all the way up his spine. He tries to disconnect himself from what’s happening to his body; tries to ignore the fact that he’s exuding slick from the way his stepbrother is mouthing him, inside and out. “You taste so good, Charlie. It’s no wonder Kurt wouldn’t share.” Cain chuckles, and digs his fingers in even farther, spreading him wide. “Well, not with _me_ , anyway.”

_“You’re such a good boy,” Kurt whispers, digging in until he’s flush against him, balls slapping against Charles’ buttocks as they move. “Such a good boy for me.”_

He’s panting with the strain of holding himself still, of not rocking back and grinding against Cain. The sensation of being ruthlessly tongued fucked is wearing him down, as is the smell of Cain all around him, reminding him so much of Kurt.

_“Tell me what you want,” his stepfather says, his mouth pressed against Charles’ neck, worrying a bruise on his skin as he moves his hips. Charles wraps his legs tighter and moans; it feels so good, being cradled and filled as Kurt fucks him into the bed._

_“Please,” he begs, because Kurt likes it when Charles begs. “Fuck me harder.”_

“That’s enough.” Shaw’s voice drags him back to the present, reminding Charles again of his predicament. There’s a grunt and a rustling sound, and then Cain is pulling away and leaving him empty, every bit of him wet and aching for more.

He’s not surprised when he feels Shaw’s hands on him almost immediately, pulling him wide; grits his teeth at the pleasure that unfurls all the way to his toes when Shaw sinks inside of him with a rapturous groan. Charles cries out with each hard thrust, his breath coming in short gasps as Shaw slams in and out of him at a maddening pace.

His stepbrother comes into view a moment later, dropping right in front of Charles onto one of the leather chairs. Cain is grinning from ear to ear, his mouth and chin still smeared with Charles’ slick. He pulls his cock out of his jeans and starts stroking himself, and Charles has to close his eyes, unable to bear the unadulterated glee on Cain’s face.  

“This is a familiar sight, little brother,” Cain taunts, leaning so close that Charles can feel the hot breath against his cheek. “You, getting fucked nice and hard by a big alpha cock. I know how much you love it. You’re gonna come just from having a cock shoved up your ass, aren’t you? You little slut.”

_He’s so close he can feel it, the orgasm hanging tantalisingly just out of reach. The man behind him is close too; his pace is fast and brutal now, driving Charles forward on his hands and knees with each hard thrust. He would topple over if not for the cock in his mouth, and the hands holding him gently by the hair._

_Kurt looks down and smiles, rubbing a finger between the tight seal around his shaft and Charles’ lips. “That’s my good boy, Charles. You’re being so good. I want you to come for me, baby. Come for me now.”_

He moans as he comes, the orgasm crashing through him as he shoots his release all over the polished surface of the oak desk.  His clenching brings Shaw over the edge right along with him, the alpha groaning as he slams his hips and comes in hot spurts, filling Charles full with his seed. And Cain follows only a few moments later, jerking himself furiously at the sight of his stepbrother coming undone, before shooting thick globs of white all over Charles’ face.

 

\---

 

Essex is the one who frees him, letting Charles lean on him as they walk back to his room, two of Shaw’s men following closely behind. It’s awkward and uncomfortable; he’s forced to hobble along with the dildo still inside him, holding back all of Shaw’s come. He hates what he’s been reduced to in this madman’s funhouse; swears that he will make them all pay for what they’ve done.

When he gets back he spends a long time in the shower, scrubbing himself raw of any trace of Cain and Shaw left on his skin. He thinks deliberately about Erik and Raven, and of the two of them safe and in hiding, and not of the way he moaned and writhed as they sated their lust on his too willing body.

The doctor is still there when he comes out, a tablet in one hand and a drink in the other. He doesn’t move or say anything when Charles approaches, waiting no doubt for the words he’s been expecting to hear all along.

“Yes,” Charles says, “I’m in.”


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erik and Raven leave Hank's cottage. And Essex makes a suggestion to Shaw.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not even going to pretend I'm writing this for any reason other than an excuse to write dirtybadpornz. Warnings for this chapter are: non-con and bondage.

They leave with as many provisions as they can carry and still travel quickly, along with a map of various caches of food and supplies previously hidden by Logan and Hank throughout the island. It’s not much – and they have nothing more than a hunting knife and one handgun – but they’re in better shape now than they would have been if Hank hadn’t picked them up and treated the majority of Erik’s wounds.

He turns away to give Raven a moment of privacy with Hank, as the two embrace and whisper words of comfort and promises that neither can actually guarantee. Logan joins him as he surveys the dense undergrowth leading into the island’s interior, handing him a cell phone with a grunt.

“Five days,” the man says, as though Erik needed the reminder. “Then try and get closer to the compound again and wait for my call. Hank will drive the ATV to pick you up and get you to the plane. _Don’t_ come before then and don’t try to rescue Xavier yourself. Just stay out of sight.”

Erik nods and shoves it into his pack without a word, unable to stomach looking at Logan without wanting to punch him in the face. He tries not to think about Charles and what the next five days will mean for him in Shaw’s hands, rage and helplessness knotting his stomach until he can barely breathe.

Hank’s voice floats behind them, strong and steadfast as he and Raven turn away from the little cottage by the sea, and disappear into the foliage. “Good luck,” he says, “and we’ll see you soon.”

None of them had any idea at the time, how prophetic Hank’s words would turn out to be.

\----

Their first night goes by uneventfully, if not easily, with Erik and Raven taking turns on watch while the other tries to catch a few hours of restless sleep. For all that the island is equipped with the latest technologies and luxuries that Shaw’s massive fortune can buy, only the parts where the compound and the scientists live at the southern tip that have been utterly transformed. The rest of the island remains wild and rugged – uninhabited and virtually unexplored.

It’s not until the late afternoon the next day that they hear it, the rumbling sound of a helicopter as it sweeps low and noisily overhead. Though it’s nearly impossible to see through the dense tropical canopy they still clamor to hide under the exposed roots of an old tree, unable to gauge from afar the capabilities or type of equipment Shaw and his men might be using to track them. Luckily, the helicopter does little more than a few long sweeps up and down the length of the island, and then everything is quiet once more, with nothing but bird calls and the chirping of insects to keep them company.

\----

They hear the far off rumblings of an engine the following day, just after a quick bite at a tiny waterfall where they’d stopped to rest and to refill their water bottles. It’s approaching from the distance and slowly picking up speed, the sound becoming more and more distinct as it closes in on their space. Definitely a motorcycle, Erik thinks, as he shoves their supplies back into his pack. And definitely more than one.

Erik grabs a hold of Raven’s hand.

They run.

 

x

 

There’s a distinct lack of awareness, of how much time has actually passed with Charles tied naked and spread-eagled on Shaw’s bed. After enduring yesterday’s humiliation with Cain, he didn’t think it could get much worse, only to be proven wrong – spectacularly so - yet again. This time he’s been fitted with a leather hood over his head, one that covers his face completely except for his nose, his breathing the only thing left unrestricted.  Blinded and gagged and unable to hear, he can feel nothing but the hands and mouths touching and teasing him; can sense nothing but the tongues on his skin and cocks in his ass, overwhelming and grounding him both with the intensity of being pleasured and fucked.

He has no idea how many alphas there are in the room; how many use him as he lays prone and unable to move, his legs in the air as a mouth sucks his cock, spurting hot and sticky and jerking against his restraints. Can’t identify if it’s one person or ten that licks him open and eats him out, working his hole with fingers and tongue as he bucks and writhes. But he always knows when Shaw is the one thrusting into him, the weight of him nauseatingly comforting in its familiarity, pushing in tight and spreading him wide, filling and fucking him as Charles comes and comes and comes.

\----

Azazel is fucking Charles for the third time, worrying bruises with his teeth on the omega’s thighs when Essex comes in to check on his charge.

“He’s going to need a break soon,” the doctor says, eyes lingering on Charles as Azazel pistons his hips, driving in and out at a near frantic pace. “The drugs I gave him are going to wear off soon. And he needs to eat and rehydrate.”

“Yes of course,” Sebastian answers, only half listening to Essex as he continues to watch the show with avid interest. “We’ll let him up after I have another go.”

They’ve been enjoying Charles for hours now, taking turns licking and fucking him in Sebastian’s bed, wringing every ounce of pleasure from a body made willing by one of Essex’s fancy concoctions. An aphrodisiac, designed to simulate an omega’s heat, though much shorter in duration and lighter in intensity.

Which is why Sebastian had him so thoroughly restrained, to help Charles let go and submit to them that much faster.

He takes the glass that Essex offers him with a hum, and takes a sip, enjoying the way the scotch mixes with the lingering taste of omega slick in his mouth. It’s a taste that’s a little addictive, and he finds his body and his mind constantly craving for more. 

Essex interrupts his musings with a quip, accompanied by a lazy smile. “Seems you’ve taken quite a liking to this one,” he says, not quite asking the question to which he already knows the answer.

“As do you,” Sebastian answers, his returning smile not quite as friendly as the doctor’s. “I hope you haven’t taken it upon yourself to sneak a taste, Nathaniel.”

But Essex seems unfazed by the implication and merely gestures to the tableau of Azazel still rutting into Charles with an indulgent smile. “Merely an observation. I do wonder though, if you plan on keeping him locked up and restrained like this indefinitely?”

“I’ll keep him like this for as long as he needs it. Until he accepts his fate.”

Understands like all the others that there’s no way to get off the island alive, and that there’s no choice but to live in service of Shaw and his alphas. Given time and enough _motivation_ , even the most unruly omega will eventually learn his place.

“Pity,” the doctor continues, “to have a mind like that reduced to nothing more than a shared sex toy. Did you know that Xavier has doctorates in Genetics and Biophysics? And that his work in alpha and omega gene composition is paving the way to entirely new possibilities in drug treatment and gene therapy? His research could cut years off the development process of some of our own drug lines, and get us into market well ahead of our competitors.”

Sebastian scoffs. “Are you suggesting I turn him over to you and put him to work in the labs? Like that boy McCoy you also called a bloody genius?”

“Hank _is_ a genius, Sebastian, and no I wouldn’t dream of depriving you of your…fun. But perhaps you could use the idea as a way to encourage better behavior from Xavier. A bit of freedom, and an appeal to his pride, in exchange for, well, his ‘willing participation’.”

“I don’t need him to be willing,” he answers with a grin. “In fact, part of his appeal is how much he likes to fight me.”

Essex nods in agreement just as Azazel comes with a harsh grunt, the sound mingling with Charles’ strangled moans dragging their attention back to the omega on the bed.

“Of course,” the doctor acknowledges as they watch Azazel pull out slowly before collapsing sideways onto the bed, giving them an unobstructed view of the omega, his hole fucked open and come trickling down his legs. “But isn’t it better to have his cooperation? To have an _active_ participant in whatever it is you’re doing to him?”

He thinks about the days that he had a willing Charles in his bed, too deep in the throes of heat to care who was fucking him, and how he begged Sebastian to take him over and over and over again, a man he professed to hate with every fiber of his being. It might be rather satisfying he thinks, to fuck a Charles that’s completely unrestrained and aware of his surroundings, and then revel in his burning anger and resentment as he’s forced to satisfy Sebastian’s every sexual whim.

“Perhaps,” is what he says out loud, signaling an end to the conversation as he makes his way over to the bed. He unbuckles his pants and slips his erection out with a sigh, squeezing Charles’ thigh to signal his presence before pushing all the way in. The omega tenses and then bucks uselessly a few times against his restraints, growling through his gag as Sebastian starts rocking in and out of him.

“Yes,” he murmurs under his breath, gripping Charles behind his knees and grinding in deep. “Very satisfying indeed.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: Negotiations happen between Charles and Shaw for a different type of 'relationship', which will get him more freedom inside the compound and interacting with the others.


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cain and Nathaniel share a common goal. They also share Charles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was supposed to be Charles+Shaw negotiations but instead THIS sort of just...came out of the blue! Anyway, I've actually had half of the next chapter written for like, a whole year now so hopefully more soon LOL.
> 
> But for now, it's more dirtybad pornz!

Barely five minutes pass before the door to the bedroom slams open and Cain Marko comes striding in, eyes burning at the sight of Xavier – naked, bound and masked – on the bed.

“They _just_ left,” Nathaniel chides, as Cain practically rips his shirt over his head, tugging his pants off impatiently with a low growl. “Shaw could turn around any minute, and you know what he does to people who disobey his orders.”

Shaw doesn’t much care what the alphas do with his bevy of omegas, and has always been content to let his men fuck or fight over them as they see fit. He lets Logan claim Jean Grey for his exclusive use, and doesn’t question Janos’ frequent visits with Angel, so long as they all understand the unspoken agreement; that they enjoy such privileges due entirely to Shaw’s benevolence.

And that if Shaw does happen to show a preference for one, the alphas know they should never _touch_ unless expressly permitted.

“They’re gone. Off on his yacht with Az, and Janos and his bitch,” Cain replies, barely acknowledging Nathaniel’s presence in the room as he climbs eagerly onto the bed, hands already roaming greedily up and down Charles’ spread thighs. “They’ve been at it all morning; even Shaw can’t get it up that many times without a fucking break.”

“Why so impatient? You know you’ll have all the time in the world to fuck him soon enough. So long as everything goes according to plan.”

Cain scoffs, nipping – just shy of too hard – on the inside of a bruised thigh, chuckling when he drags a muffled yelp from behind Charles’ mask. “You worry too much. Everything’s in place. Shaw’s not gonna know what hit him.”

“I find it wise to never underestimate my opponents.”

“Shut up, old man,” Cain snaps, his attention wholly focused on his stepbrother, hands clutching at every inch of bare flesh, before slipping three thick fingers into Charles’ dripping hole. “Ungag him. I want to hear him when I fuck his uptight little ass.”

Nathaniel wrinkles his nose in distaste; Cain Marko is a crass thug and doesn’t deserve to come within ten feet of an exceptional specimen like Charles Xavier. But he’s a thug that happens to be dangerous – and more importantly, still useful – and so he moves to do as asked, removing the piece of the mask covering Charles’ mouth, and then stepping away and dropping down onto the armchair by the bed. “His drugs are wearing off. You’ve got fifteen minutes.”

He expects no answer and doesn’t get one; Cain is too busy lodging himself between Charles’ thighs, grinning broadly at the body splayed beneath him – still blinded and deafened by the mask, arms bound above his head and legs in the air. The bastard doesn’t even bother to use any lube for prep; he just lines himself up and pushes all the way in, his admittedly oversized cock pushing the dregs of Shaw’s and Azazel’s old spend out of Charles’ hole and dripping onto the sheets.

There’s no finesse to the way Cain drives his hips, mouth covering Xavier’s as he inhales every sound falling from the omega’s lips. The wet slap of skin on skin fills the air, the smell of semen and slick ripe and enticing as Nathaniel leans back to enjoy the show. Cain fucks Charles like a demon possessed, groaning and grunting with pleasure as he slams in and out of that luscious ass; like his entire life has been nothing but leading up to this perfect, glorious moment.

“Yeah, you like that, Charlie?” Cain growls, slinging Charles’ legs over his shoulders, sinking ever deeper with every hard, almost savage thrust. “Always thought you were too good for me, didn’t you, you snotty little punk? Now who’s panting like a bitch with my dick up his ass? Moaning and begging for it?”

Charles can’t see or hear him of course; the omega has no idea that the person currently fucking him is his estranged stepbrother. But it doesn’t seem to matter to Cain in the slightest, his grin taking a maniacal edge as he continues his diatribe against an unwitting Xavier.

“You’re mine, Charlie,” Cain says, between forceful kisses, and more stinging bites on the inside of Charles’ thighs, “once Shaw’s gone, there’ll be no one getting between us ever again. I’m gonna tie you to my bed and fuck you day and night ‘til you learn your lesson. Teach you some goddamn manners.”

The omega gasps and moans as he’s being pummeled, Cain ramming into him with what seems to be a lifetime’s worth of pent-up lust and resentment. Marko kisses and nuzzles and nips at every bit of exposed skin he can reach, and mumbles barely coherent taunts of ‘yeah take it’ and ‘you love getting fucked’ against Charles’ cherry red lips. There’s something dark and vicious in the way he tries to devour his stepbrother entirely, a desire to make the man submit with every slam and thrust, wringing every ounce of pleasure he can from Charles’ delectable body.

Nathaniel has watched similar scenes unfold enough to know the moment Charles gets close; has watched the omega get fucked by Sebastian and Azazel so many times that he can easily read the signs of mounting arousal from the curl of his toes to the arch of his back. He can tell that Cain is close too, his hips pistoning in and out of Charles faster now and more erratic, sweat dripping from his brow as he tries to hold off his pending orgasm.

And then Charles lets out a sharp gasp, bucking against the unexpected clamp of Cain’s hand around the base of his cock, holding his orgasm at bay. He cries out – ‘No’ and ‘Please’ – to no avail, as Cain keeps rocking in and out, denying his release even as Marko moans like he’s dying, coming hard inside Charles’ desperate and writhing body.

“Lesson one. You don’t come unless I say you can,” Cain gasps, as he collapses on top of Charles with a satisfied grunt. He waits for a few long moments before he pulls out, and doesn’t loosen his grip from around Charles’ cock until the omega’s peak has completely subsided.

“All done then?” Nathaniel asks with a wry smirk, as Cain gives Charles a last, rough kiss on the lips, slapping his ass hard enough to make him yell out. He waits patiently as Cain pulls on his pants and shirt and runs a hand through his hair, still grinning like it's Christmas and his birthday rolled into one.

“For now,” the alpha says, checking his reflection in the mirror by the door. “Bitch was just as good a fuck as I expected. No wonder my old man couldn’t get enough of it.” He turns to Nathaniel then and gives him a sarcastic salute. “Later, Essex. I’ll let you know when it’s time to move.”

He watches as Cain practically prances out of the room, looking exactly like a cat that caught the canary. With a sigh, Nathaniel pushes himself out of the armchair and goes to lock the door, shifting his trousers a little to ease the pressure off his own raging hard-on.

“Well, it wasn’t very nice of him to deny you, was it Charles?” he murmurs, coming to stand at the foot of the bed, admiring the messy, unobstructed view. “What do you say, we help each other out a bit hmm?”

Charles lets out a moan, a soft and pained sound that Nathaniel takes as agreement, sending a shiver of delight and anticipation up his spine. Stripping quickly out of his own pants and underwear, he climbs onto the bed and settles in the vacated space between Charles’ thighs. He leans forward and licks the ooze from that obscene, gaping hole – just a little taste of slick and mingled seed – earning another thrust of Charles’ hips along with a pleasured gasp.

Unlike Cain, he eases in gently, letting the tight ring of muscle drag him close until he’s pressed flush against Charles’ ass. The omega is hot and wet and filled to the brim; he can feel the sticky fluids coating his own prick with every slow, rapturous push.   

And it doesn’t take long at all for Nathaniel to get close; he was already rock hard from watching Cain fuck his stepbrother, not to mention the hours before of Sebastian and Azazel using and abusing Xavier for their enjoyment. He too presses his mouth against an unresisting Charles, kissing him tenderly as he works the omega’s swollen cock, stroking to the rhythm of his own rocking hips. He keeps going even as Charles stiffens and spurts all over his hand, and lets the tight clench around his prick drag him over the edge, shooting hot and sticky inside Xavier’s ass, his own release mixing with the remains of the three alphas before him.

“Don’t worry,” Nathaniel says, placing a gentle kiss on Charles’ leather covered forehead. “As soon as we deal with Shaw, I’ll put a bullet for you in Marko’s head.”


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shaw's men are catching up to Erik and Raven. And Shaw gives Charles an offer he can't refuse.
> 
> Previously: Hank and Logan have a plan to get them off the island. They just need Erik and Raven to stay hidden for five days. Charles agrees to work with Nathaniel Essex to take down Shaw.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to the encouragement of the always wonderful @Thea-polis, here is another chapter of SI!
> 
>  **Warnings** : Dubcon that's really noncon

They run.

Erik leads them through the trees, the two of them moving as fast and as silently as they can through the thick underbrush as the rumble of the engine grows steadily louder. They’ve studied the map from Logan in excruciating detail, and have a good handle on the island’s layout; there’s a cave behind the large waterfall about a mile away, where Logan himself used as a hiding place when he was the one being hunted by Shaw. If they can make it, there’s every chance that Shaw’s men will lose their trail, and they can buy themselves some much needed time to wait for Hank and Logan’s plan to work.

“They’re gaining on us,” Raven pants, as they dodge their way around the branches and over the hilly terrain. “We’re not going to make it.”

He squeezes the hand he’s holding as an engine roars in the distance, and pulls the gun out of its holster with the other. “We will. We have to. Charles is counting on us.”

x  
  


“I hope you’re hungry,” Sebastian Shaw says with a grin, “I didn’t know what you liked so I had the chef make all his best dishes.”

Charles snorts, ignoring Shaw and the dishes covering the entirety of the dining room table, with enough food to feed a dozen people. It seems that Shaw has spared no expense for whatever this night is supposed to be – seduction, coercion, it hardly matters – eager to indulge their palates with a veritable feast, wagyu steak and fresh lobster and oysters and what reads like a chef’s tasting menu from a three Michelin star extravaganza. It’s showy and gratuitous and completely self-serving, which is perfectly in line with everything he’s come to know about his captor thus far.

He grabs the glass of two hundred dollar Bordeux and drains it all in one go, trying to ease the roiling in his gut at having to play along, to humor this man who has done nothing but rape and abuse him for his own sick pleasure. At least he doesn’t have to act like he enjoys the man’s depraved company; in fact, Shaw seems to get off on how much Charles despises him.

A sadist. And a control freak.

“You should try the steak, it’s delicious,” Shaw continues solicitously, as though Charles isn’t sitting across the table from him, glaring so hard it’s a wonder he doesn’t combust in a fiery blaze straight to Hell. “You’ll want to eat up. You’ll need lots of energy for negotiations.”

Charles snorts. “What’s there to negotiate? You rape me, and I’m powerless to stop you. What could you possibly want from me that you won’t just take?”

But it seems that the man is completely impervious to insults, letting Charles’ venom wash right over him with a pleased chuckle. “Charles, Charles. I do so like your fighting spirit. Tell me, what would you say to a bit more freedom, hmm? To be able to enjoy the amenities of the compound outside of your room?”

“What I _want_ , is for you to let me _go_ ,” Charles snarls, “I want _off_ this forsaken island with my sister and Erik. That’s what I bloody _want_ , you fucking maniac!”

“ _That_ I’m afraid, is not up for discussion,” Shaw replies, taking a slow sip from his own glass, savoring the taste as he smiles genially at an unimpressed Charles. “But I _am_ willing to put your sister ‘on the table’ so to speak. What do you say?”

“I say, I don’t believe a damn thing that comes out of your mouth.”

Shaw laughs. “And what if I told you that any minute now my phone is going to ring, and one of my men will tell me that they’ve found your sister and Erik Lehnsherr? What should I tell them to do with these unwanted guests on my island hmm?”

“You sick son of a—”

“Now, now, there’s no need to be rude,” Shaw cuts in, his chiding tone doing nothing to mask just how much he’s enjoying this, baiting Charles and watching him stew helplessly with anger and resentment. “We both want something from the other person…I say we discuss this like two civilized adults, and state our terms.”

“Civilized?” he spits, disgusted with Shaw’s game, pretending that Charles has any real free will to exert over his circumstances. And yet he knows he’s supposed to be playing along, and not just because of his agreement with Essex; he needs to be smart for Raven’s sake and for Erik’s, and lull Shaw into a sense of complacency. “Fine. We’ll be civilized. What do you want from me?”

“I want to give you a chance to enjoy this beautiful island, Charles,” the bastard says with a smirk. “I want you to feel free to move about the compound...we have an Olympic sized pool, did you know? And a sauna and whirlpool? An extensive gym, a theater; a chef that will make you anything you want. Plus the beach is gorgeous; you’ve seen it from your room.”

Charles scoffs. “Oh yes, only the best money can buy.”

But Shaw only grins wider, completely unfazed by his hostility. “Exactly! You should know that I take great pains to treat my people well, and I intend to offer you the same courtesy. I want you to learn to enjoy it here; to interact with the others and make yourself at home.”

 _Because you’re never getting off this island_ is what Charles hears plainly in those words, a shiver running down his spine at the sheer audacity of Shaw’s depravity, as though he were offering Charles a paradise instead of a prison. “And if I’m to take advantage of your…generosity, what then?”

Shaw shrugs, leaning back in his chair as he takes another sip from his glass. “Then your sister lives, Charles. Here with you, on the island as a welcome guest. Essex tells me he’d like to get your help in the labs; perhaps we can find similar work for Miss Xavier.”

“This does all sound rather… _civilized_ ,” Charles growls, “but you still haven’t told me what you want from _me_.”

“What I want from you,” Shaw echoes, getting up from his chair and coming to stand in front of Charles. It takes every ounce of willpower he possesses to stay still and not lash out, though his whole body tenses when Shaw reaches to touch him, dragging a thumb across his cheek with an indulgent sigh. “What I want is for you to enjoy our time together, pet. I want you to come more willingly to my bed and be an active participant in your pleasure.”

“You mean, you want me to stop fighting you when you rape me.”

“I want you to be a good boy, Charles,” Shaw counters, hand sliding from his cheek to wrap around the nape of his neck, squeezing lightly. “I want to touch you, and have you touch me back. I want you not to flinch when I kiss you, or pull away when I reach for you. I want you to suck my cock without me having to put a gag in your mouth. I want to fuck you without having to drug you, or tie you down. Do you think you could do that, hmm? In exchange for your sister’s life?”

“And Erik? Is he part of the deal?” Charles asks, ignoring the bile in his throat, choosing only to focus on how he can save the people he loves most in the world. “If I agree, will you let Erik live too?”

Shaw’s answering smile is triumphant, his eyes glittering with barely suppressed glee as he pulls Charles to his feet and gives him a possessive, open mouthed kiss.

“That depends entirely on you, my boy,” Shaw says, and Charles shudders, closing his eyes to the feel of the bastard’s lips pressing greedily against his skin. “You’ll have to work very hard indeed to convince me.”

\-----

The phone rings quite a while later than expected; Sebastian has had time to coax Charles to actually eat his meal and then fuck his delicious mouth in lieu of dessert. Now they’ve retired to his room and shed their clothes – he’d watched, endlessly amused as Charles painfully and reluctantly stripped for him – with Sebastian laying sprawled on the bed as his would-be lover rides his cock.

Charles is gorgeous, the muscles in his thighs flexing as he moves, hands clutching the sheets every time Sebastian pushes up to meet him, balls pressed flush against his well-stretched hole. He’s warm and tight and his ass fits Sebastian’s prick like a glove, flesh yielding beautifully with every slow rock of his hips. The omega is every bit as exquisite as the finest wines and richest foods; an indulgence he intends to relish as often as he can.

“Sorry, I should take that,” Sebastian says as the ringing fills the room. He rolls them up and over, pinning a surprised Charles onto his back as he reaches for the panel on the nightstand. With a quick press of a button he connects the call, Azazel’s voice filtering through as Charles tries unsuccessfully to wriggle out from under Sebastian’s body.

“ _We have ‘em_.”

“Very good, Azazel,” he answers, enjoying the way Charles’ entire body goes still, before trying to pull away again. Sebastian only chuckles, and leverages his position and heavier weight to hold him still as he slides back in, dragging an indignant yelp from those kiss-bitten lips. “I take it they’re still alive?” 

“ _Both alive, and the girl’s fine_ ,” Azazel replies as Charles gasps, back arching as Sebastian slams particularly hard into that delectable ass, his hands flying to clutch at Sebastian’s shoulders, “ _but Lehnsherr’s been shot. It’s not life threatening yet, but it will be if we let him bleed out_.”

"No, Erik,” Charles breathes, and oh yes, Sebastian loves the way his posh voice hitches, desperate as he is to stem the rising tide of panic. “Please, Sebastian, you can’t…don’t kill him.”

“Mm,” he says instead of answering, taking the time to nose lightly against Charles’ neck, pressing sweet kisses along the hollow of his pale throat. There’s no fight left in Charles’ limbs as Sebastian fucks into him, thighs spread wide and welcoming with every relentless, steady thrust. “Anything you want, my sweet, if you give me what _I_ want. Make love to me, and I’ll consider saving Mr. Lehnsherr’s life.”

“Yes…alright, yes. Just…tell them not to let Erik die and I’ll give you what you want.”

“Good, very good,” Sebastian agrees, and starts moving just a little faster, digging in deep, making Charles groan when he bottoms out, pressing him tight against the bedspread. “Then make me come.”

Charles stares up at him, eyes wide in disbelief. “What...now? No, he’s been _shot_! You have to tell your men to treat him now! You can’t wait for us to…he needs help right now!”

“Azazel,” he calls out, chuckling inwardly at the relief that blooms immediately across Charles’ expressive face. “How long before Lehnsherr dies?’

“ _Five…ten minutes, tops_.”

And now he does laugh out loud, not bothering to hide his amusement at the dawning realization on Charles’ face, of what Sebastian is really asking of him. “You heard the man. You have ten minutes to make sure I have a lovely orgasm. Five, if you’re very good.”

“You…absolute _bastard_!” Charles snarls at him, skin flushing red with anger, blue eyes flashing with so much hate and disgust. He’s even more gorgeous when he’s spitting mad and _this close_ to lashing out, and Sebastian wants nothing more than to drown himself in every bit of that glorious, helpless fury.

“Nine minutes,” he taunts, and oh yes, he can feel the way Charles’ stiffens in response, his whole body vibrating with barely restrained tension. But it seems that Charles is determined to save Lehnsherr at any cost, his anger be damned; Sebastian finds himself roughly handled, legs winding around his hips and arms around his neck, his lips parted almost violently with a desperate, heated kiss. The enthusiasm – fake and still thoroughly intoxicating – stirs the lust in his blood, and he reciprocates in kind, hands gripping hard enough to leave purpling bruises all over that soft, unblemished skin.

It’s good, _amazing_ really, better even than fucking an unthinking Charles in the middle of his heat. The creature in his bed now is vicious and wholly demanding, meeting Sebastian’s every harsh slam with an equally jarring thrust of his hips. Charles pants and writhes as Sebastian spreads him wide and fucks him open, making breathless little moans that the alpha inhales with wild, luxurious abandon. This is the most _alive_ and _present_ that Sebastian has ever had him, and the orgasm comes much too quickly, fast and brutal for them both as Charles clenches tight around his prick, coming with a ragged shout. The feel of it, and the way Charles grasps at him with fingers and lips sends him over the edge too with a wordless groan, spilling what feels like a gallon of hot and sticky come as he buries his cock in the omega’s body.

They lay together for long moments, entwined, catching their breath and Sebastian is so pleased with the outcome of his experiment that he almost doesn’t mind letting Erik Lehnsherr live.

At least for a little while longer.

He has a sense there’s not much Charles isn’t willing to do, to keep the man alive.

“Patch him up and take him to see Essex,” he says, to the audience waiting patiently on the other end of the line. “I’ll see to our guests in the morning.”

The phone call ends and Sebastian sighs, with Charles going practically limp with relief in his arms. He pulls out gingerly - though Charles still hisses with discomfort - and rubs his fingers gently in and around the ring of muscle, coating his fingers with a mixture of come and the omega’s own slick.

“Eat up, pet, and then time for bed. You did well tonight…keep it up, and I’ll let you see your sister in the morning.”

He lifts his fingers, still dripping wet, and rubs them expectantly along Charles’ bottom lip.

Charles opens his mouth, and takes them in.

x  
  


“Well then, you heard the boss. Looks like today’s your lucky day, Mr. Lehnsherr. Let’s go.”

Erik grunts as one of the men work quickly to staunch his bleeding, pressing thick bandages against his side and wrapping them tightly around his torso. Once he’s finished, Erik finds himself hauled roughly by another – Victor, he’d been called – and tossed unceremoniously onto the open back of the pickup truck. Raven is shoved in right after him, only slightly less roughly by Azazel, and lands on her side with a grunt.

They’ve been gagged, and their hands bound behind their backs, so there’s nothing they can do but lay still as the men load into the truck. The guns they keep in hand, and Victor climbs into the back with them, as the other two hop into the front and start the engine.

“That was a nice thing your little bitch did for you, Lehnsherr, saving your life,” Victor says, as the truck starts to move, jostling them roughly along the forest floor, back towards the compound. “Nice of the boss too, to let us listen in on them fucking, don’t you think?”

Raven snarls something from behind her gag, which only makes Victor laugh uproariously, obviously amused by her reaction. He spends the rest of the ride back sharing crude commentary with his captive audience, going into painful detail about Charles, and Shaw, and all the lurid things they’d heard them do during the call.

He closes his eyes, and lets the pain drag him under.


End file.
